An Atlantis Christmas Carol
by the morrighan
Summary: A piece of fluff for the holidays.  Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

An Atlantis Christmas Carol

White.

Moira Sheppard stared at the night. It was snowing. A rare enough occurrence to be remarkable. Miraculous, even. It never snowed on Atlantis. Until now. The flakes were white spinning works of art against the warm glow of the city lights. Sparkling with silver, drowned in amber tones as they silently fell. Then disappeared into the darkness of the surrounding ocean. Melted on the hard panes and spires of the city itself. A light dusting glinted on the iron railings. On the window where Moira stood, staring.

She watched in wonder, in awe. The sky was a dark leaden blanket muffling everything in its cold, cold embrace. Snowflakes hit the window. Glinted, were gone as the warmth evaporated them. They slid down the glass like tiny crystal tears. Mourning some unknown misery. Shivering as the city absorbed them, rendered them into nothing but drops of water. She grew suspicious. Peered up to see if the shield was somehow involved. Would not put it past either John or Rodney to connive at this sudden appearance of snow at a most propitious time. She smiled at the thought. After Katie's murder the men's relationship had been a rocky one. Perhaps this was the beginning of a mutual reconciliation.

The baby in her arms cooed softly. One little hand extending towards the sparkling snowflakes on the glass. Moira shushed the infant, gently rocking as she cuddled the baby closer to her. The pink blanket was soft against her cheek. She kissed the baby's rosy face. "There now, Emily, there now. Hush."

The infant gurgled in response. Touched the window with a pudgy little hand. She made a soft sound of surprise as the cold hit her fingers. She drew back her hand and snuggled against her mother. Seeking warmth. Comfort. Reassurance.

Moira kissed the infant's dark, silky hair. Glanced behind her. The room was dark. A tall shape loomed in one corner. The scent of pine fresh, pure. A Christmas tree. Decorated with garlands and tinsel and shiny ornaments of every color. Lights softly blinked from it, casting long shadows on the floor, on the walls. Intermittent flashes of color in the dark. Lending enchantment to an otherwise utilitarian room.

She looked back at the window. Gently bouncing the infant as she settled, making little noises Falling back asleep. Safe and secure in her mother's arms.

"Hungry?"

Moira gasped, startled. Almost jumped. She turned to see her husband standing behind her. She smiled. John Sheppard was half asleep. Dark hair mussed in every direction. Navy t-shirt and blue plaid pajama bottoms rumpled. Bare feet soundless on the floor. His handsome face was scruffy. Jaw lined with dark stubble. His green eyes caught the reflection of the blinking lights. Slitted. She knew he could see her perfectly well even in the dark. She turned back to stare out the window. Still finding his changes unnerving at times. "No. Fussy."

"Ah." He stepped closer. Slid his arms around his wife's waist. Peered over her shoulder at the cozy infant. "What could possibly upset my princess?" he asked. The baby cooed, hearing him, but remained sleeping.

Moira softly sighed. "Stop that. You are going to spoil her rotten, aren't you?" she accused.

"Hell yes, I am," he confirmed. He kissed his wife's cheek. "But not as much as I am going to spoil you, sweetheart." He shifted, rubbing his body along hers.

She snorted. "Is that a preview, sweetie, or just your way of saying hello?"

He chuckled. A low, sensuous sound. "Both, baby, both," he said into her ear.

"Put that thing away," she scolded, moving but he pressed into her again. Undeterred.

John ran his mouth along her throat. "My Moira. I know where I'd like to put it away."

"Stand down, colonel," she scolded. She eyed the baby in her arms. "She's asleep. Finally."

"My little Ems can have whatever she wants. Whatever she needs."

"Oh brother," Moira sighed again. "Let's go. I'll put her to bed." He freed her. She moved past him, across the suite of rooms. Their quarters had expanded as their family had. As their needs had. She crossed into the nursery. Settled the infant into her crib. Crossed into the next room where her sons slept. The little boys were snug in their bunk beds. Built by their father. With Rodney and Ronon's help. She smiled at the memory. The arguing. The drinking. The swearing. She lightly kissed each child. Crossed into her bedroom. John wasn't there. She entered the outer room again to find him.

John was standing at the window. Staring at the snowfall. His long, lean form casting shadows across the blinking Christmas lights. He was utterly still. Utterly silent. Moira paused. Loath to disturb him. But he held out his arm. Inviting. She stepped to him, still startled by his heightened senses. His arm slid round her waist, drawing her against him. Pressing her to him. His fingers slid under the green pajama top to caress bare skin. "So?" he asked.

"What?"

"Em's settled. So?"

"What?"she stubbornly repeated.

He frowned. "Cute. Very. What's wrong now?"

She frowned at the tone in his voice. "Nothing." She rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm sliding around his waist. Enjoying the feel of him. Solid warmth. Protection. Love. Security.

He was silent. Waiting. Stroking her bare back. Fingers moving up and down. Up and down. He brushed her lips across his brow, her hair. Knew she would talk. All he had to do was to wait. He licked his lips, waiting. Waiting. Curbing his impatience.

They stood watching the snowfall. Arms around each other. Bodies pressing. Enjoying the silence. Enjoying each other's company. Closeness. It was as if they were the only two people in Atlantis, on the planet, in the galaxy.

"John," she said suddenly, startling him out of his reverie, "I wish you, I wish you wouldn't go on this mission. Please. Stay here with us. If, if something happened, even something minor and you were to miss Christmas the boys would be so disappointed! And this was your whole idea anyway, John! To have a, a proper Christmas. Tree, presents, lights, even snow! The whole works. It was your idea, John! So you have to be here for it! For all of it!"

"Okay," he agreed amiably.

"I'm serious, John!" she continued, as if she hadn't heard him, or didn't believe him. She hit his chest, moving free of his embrace to face him. Furious. Eyes glinting with tears. Expression resolute. "You have to be here! Not on some damn foolhardy, glorious mission to save the galaxy yet again but here!" She hit him. "With your family!" She hit his chest again. "For this damn holiday you insisted, you fucking insisted on having to the full tilt, all the bells and whistles so you had better damn well be here for all of it, and not off on some stupid...what? Okay?" She blinked.

He smirked. Charmed. Aroused. The snowfall was a halo behind her billowing long brown hair. Her stern expression. Her curves under the heavy flannel pajamas. "Yeah. Okay." He touched her hips. Moving her to him. He kissed her. A long, slow kiss. Savoring every thought, every emotion. Every taste of her. Feel of her.

But she pushed at his chest, pushed herself back from him. Even as his hands slid round, down to grasp her rear. "Huh? Okay?"

He gave her a dazzling smile. "Too complicated for you, doctor?" he teased. His hands slid up to her back. Then down into her pants. Grabbed her bare rear and gently squeezed, squeezed.

"John!" she squirmed, hit his chest again. "Seriously?"

"What? Staying here? Yes. Sex now? Hell, yes, baby. So fucking sweet...so fucking ripe my mouth is watering for it."

"John! You, John!" she exclaimed as his hands slid round to yank down the pants. Fingers gliding between her legs now, aggressively rubbing, rubbing her folds. Seeking entrance, admittance to what he craved.

"Ssh, baby, you'll wake the boys and Ems and the whole city oh fuck, fuck, baby there it is." His voice became a growl as her squirming provided entrance. Her folds moist, getting wetter and wetter as his long, nimble fingers probed and stroked. Stroked her clitoris with exact precision.

Moira gasped loudly, whimpered and squirmed. Tensing on his fingers, over them as if to pull him inside her. She shoved his hand away with an effort. Breath coming quickly as the arousal was swift, demanding. Flustered at his skills, his direct intentions. Aroused. "John Sheppard! Stop that!" she scolded. "I'm trying to have a serious discussion with you and...oh God..." The last words were a trembling whisper.

John's gaze was hard, avidly on her crotch. The blinking lights catching the glistening moisture on the hair between her legs. Delicate as lace, shimmering with sporadic colors. He breathed deeply. Inhaling the scent of her, of sex. Of arousal. He lifted his moist fingers to his lips. Gaze locked with hers now. He ran his fingers over his lips. Savoring. Extended his tongue and licked them. Licked each finger like a cat with a bowl of cream. Sensuous, slow motions of his tongue flicking, flicking.

Moira gulped. Riveted. Repulsed. Fascinated. With each flick of his tongue on his long, long fingers her lower body tightened, tensed. Clitoris softly pulsing in need, desire, demand. Her nipples hard against the pajama top now, almost painfully hard and yearning for his touch, his mouth to play across them. His gaze smouldering. Passionate. Brilliant green eyes such a vivid shade she couldn't look away. Couldn't move. Frozen in place like a mouse trapped by a cat. He was in complete control of her. She could almost feel his erection throbbing , stiff and hard and only waiting for her acquiescence. Her sweet surrender to him. The air felt cold on her bare skin. Tickling her hot reaction to him. A shiver ran up her back.

John slowly smiled. His gaze dropping to her crotch again. He knew she was his. Utterly his. Would be begging him soon. Pleading for him to fill her. He ached to fill her. To take her. He longed to enter that snug, wet pussy of hers and drive them both to sexual bliss. He licked his lips. Made a sound deep in his throat. Male. Primal. He yanked off his pajama pants. Cock springing out engorged, eager.

He grabbed her arms. Hoisted her up against the window and thrust into her. She gasped, crying out as he groaned, groaned. She grabbed onto his arms as he began to thrust in earnest now. Hard, swift strokes. She tightened on him, legs wide, feet slipping and sliding for purchase as she was propelled against the window, up the window. He kissed her suddenly. A deep kiss. His tongue intruding as deeply as his cock. In perfect time, perfect rhythm.

Moira gasped, moaning as the pleasure spiraled, spiraled wildly. As he freed her mouth. As he yanked open her top. Buttons popping. As he slowed to run his mouth along her breasts. Hoisting her higher now. Effortless. The strength in his arms, in his body controlling. Arousing. She arched, whimpered as he took a nipple into his mouth. Nibbling and sucking to make her moan and plead inarticulately for him. To make her fingers tighten on his arms. To make her clench tightly on his cock. He slid up to her mouth again. Ramming her into the window now. The glass was cold on her bare rear but she didn't care as wave after wave of orgasm blossomed. She cried out his name, over and over. Lost in the sexual rush. He swore profusely, coming at last, quickly. Shoving all of him into her, faster and faster until she nearly screamed and he growled like a cat in heat, groaning loudly.

Moira blinked past tears as the pleasure was almost too much. The sensations too vivid. Too precise as he knew where and when to ply here, finding every spot, every motion to bring her repeatedly. He shuddered, thrusting hard, then jerked violently in her. Relaxing as the orgasm flooded, relieving him. He breathed heavily on her, pressing, pressing. Gently set her onto her feet as he slid out of her. But he swung her up into his arms. Only to set her onto the floor.

He yanked off his shirt, standing over her. The colored lights blinked over his long, lean body. A slight sparkling of sweat on his muscles, glinting in the dark hair of his arms, legs, crotch, and now chest as he tossed his shirt to the floor. Moira stared up at him, entranced. He looked down at her. Smiled. The lights blinking on her soft, yielding body. Curves to be taken, to be tasted yet again, if he so desired. Her long hair a messy cloud on her skin, on the floor. He sprawled over her, kissing her. Gentle kisses. Calming. Loving. Spent bodies relaxing into the lethargic afterglow of passion. Of sex.

"John?" she said, voice breathless. She stroked his bare back as his chest hair tickled her. Coarseness rubbing gently on her breasts. "John?"

"Ssh." He lifted, shifting some of his weight off her. Lazily smiled. "So, baby...what was that? Oh yeah. You want me here. Right here. Fine by me, sweetheart. So fucking sweet."

"Ssh." She giggled. "My ass is freezing!"

He laughed. "Oh? I can remedy that, baby. Don't you worry. Get on top." He rolled off her. Waited. "Come on, baby. Ride me. I want you to ride me. I want to watch you ride me. I want to watch you come. Every little expression. I want to hear every little sound. I want to feel every little quiver of that sweet, that fucking sweet little–"

"John!" she scolded, hitting his arm. But slid on top of him. Kissed him. Kiss after kiss, savoring his full lips. "John!" she scolded as his hands slid down to grab her rear.

"Shit! That is a cold ass, baby!"

She laughed, squirmed as he squeezed. "Stop it! John!"

"Ssh, baby! Although I do like you loud. Up, now!"

"Ssh, sweetie! You can't possibly get it up after...oh my..." Her brown eyes widened, feeling him stir under her. She sat. Adjusted herself on top of him. Ran her nails sharply down his chest, his waist.

He groaned. But smiled. "Ride me, baby. Ride me hard...oh yeah...oh fuck, oh fuck..."

"Ssh!" she scolded, lifting and then gyrating on him. But it didn't take long for him to become hard under her. Eager again.

John caught her hips, gently guiding. Watching avidly as she lifted, taking him into her. The colored lights blinked over her as she rode him. Colors glinting on her bare skin. On her bouncing breasts as the pajama top was open wide. On her waist. On their joining bodies as she moved up and down, up and down. Faster and faster. On her swirling hair. On her passionate expression. Her parted lips. Her quickening breath. Her arching body, splayed thighs as he thrust up, up into her. Aiding her. Her soft sounds a concert of passion, of need, of sex. Music to his ears, arousal to his body.

Moira stuttered, coming with a shiver. But John thrust harder, suddenly sat and grabbed her to increase momentum, speed, even the angle. She cried out as the climax shook her, a burst that made her grab onto him. He groaned, guiding her onto him, sliding as deeply as he could. Until the last of his lust was expended. He sighed happily, quenched at last. He kissed her but she scrambled off him, away from him. "Damn it, John!" she complained, flustered. She yanked on her pajamas, shakily buttoned her top.

He smiled. "Fuck that was hot, baby. You–"

"Shut up! Pervert!"

He laughed. Stood and pulled on his pants. Followed after her into their bedroom. Moira got into the bed, hauling the blankets over her, snuggling into them. He slid in next to her. "I trust that pert little ass is warm now, baby?"

"Shut up!" She rolled onto her side, away from him. Stared at the darkness. Flustered again.

He smirked. Spooned against her. Arm going round her waist. Fingers sliding up under the top to fondle a breast. "How's that, baby? Hmm? Snug and tight and warm, so fucking warm. My Moira." He closed his eyes, relaxing. "Don't you worry, baby. My little Ems will sleep the rest of the night. I'm not sure about the rest of the city, though." He snorted as she elbowed him. "Relax, Moy. Go to sleep."

"Easy for you to say, flyboy," she scolded. Shifting against him. She caught hold of his hand at her breasts. "John...John, my God! I'm still, um, still not used to your um, that is to say your, um...the intensity. You...the duration! You...it's incredible...the, the way you...you sustain and then you...you know exactly what to...I mean, you...I...um, um...along with everything else. Everything new about you. No one knows, John. No one knows about all of it. And we'll keep it that way. Like we will about Emily. And Johnny and Seamus, their double ATA genes. And the differences...the...Emily doesn't even have an ATA which is odd in, in itself, the...John? John?"

John was softly snoring. Fast asleep.

She smiled fondly. Sighed. Not surprised. She closed her eyes, nestling into him. Into his warmth, his love. His strength. His trust.


	2. Chapter 2

An Atlantis Christmas Carol2

"What do you mean, you're not going?" Rodney McKay sounded appalled. Angry. He stood, hands on his hips, glaring down at the lazily reclining figure of his friend. Disbelief vied with annoyance. John appeared almost smug. Sprawled in the chair in the control room as if he owned it. Owned everything and everyone. So at ease it made Rodney's skin crawl. "You have to go! I mean you're the team leader! This whole mission was your idea in the first place! You pushed it past Woolsey's objections! We even located a new energy source! We even placated the inhabitants! Now you want to back out of it? Why? Why!"

"Moira," Ronon Dex answered. Smiled. He was amused at Rodney's outraged. Not bothered either way.

"Is that so, colonel?" Teyla asked, arching a delicate brow. Amused as well.

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Yeah? That's it? That's all you have to say is yeah?" Rodney exclaimed, his voice rising. "And what is that supposed to mean? Why?"

"She wants me." He paused a moment. "Home for Christmas."

"Home for...what is this? A Hallmark movie? Of all the asinine reasons for getting out of a mission, out here in the Pegasus galaxy where we have finally located a possible new energy source which could alleviate our dependence on ZPMs and you suddenly decide you can't go on this mission which you planned from the get-go because your wife wants you home for some spurious holiday which you decided to celebrate on the fly? Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

Rodney sighed. Spluttered, trying to say several things at once. Ended up sitting back in his chair.

"So you're scrubbing the mission because Moira said so?" Ronon asked. Shrugged.

"Not exactly. You are all going. Just not me."

"Because Moira said so?" Ronon asked. Exchanged a look with Teyla.

"Yeah."

"Who will lead the team?" Teyla asked, but Rodney had gotten his second wind.

"I'm sorry," he said, his Canadian accent jarring to John's ears suddenly, "but exactly who is in charge of this city? Last I checked it wasn't your wife! And who is in charge of the teams? Last I checked it was the military commander! Which just so happens to be you! And who is the team leader of this team? Last I checked it was you!"

"And Moira is in charge of him," quipped Teyla. Laughter.

"Look, I know things haven't been great recently. For awhile, actually." Rodney glanced down at the table. "I mean I know that we've all been through a lot. And Moira had some trouble with the pregnancy and the birth but she's fine now, right? You resumed your duties and all. Do you still feel the need to cave in to her every little demand?"

"Yeah."

"Oh screw this!" Rodney flung a file at John. Exited the room, muttering to himself.

Ronon laughed. Teyla sighed. "Colonel, do you have to rile him like that?"

"Yes, I do," John stated. Straightening in his seat.

"Are you truly that concerned about Moira and the baby?"

"No...they're both fine now," John assured. "Thriving, and I intend to keep it that way. I'm not going anywhere at the moment." He stood. "You are still going on that mission. I was thinking of sending Lorne with you, to act in my stead. If he feels up to it, that is. Dismissed. We'll reconvene in twenty."

John moved to the exercise room. Paused, hands clasped behind his back. He watched the two men as they circled, circled. Sticks parlayed in defense, attack. Both determined. Wary. One taking it easy on the other. The other resenting it and attacking, but a little sloppily. The sticks hit in a furious clashing until one gave way. Dropped to the floor.

"Damn it!" Evan Lorne swore, flexing his arm and bending to grab the fallen stick. It fell again from his grasp as his hand shook. He swore, forced himself to pick it up. To close his fingers around it. To hold it.

"Sorry, Evan," Jason Reynolds apologized, but seeing John watching he straightened. "Sir?"

"Huh? Oh shit," Evan muttered, turning to see that John had witnessed the exchange. "Sir?" he echoed.

John nodded. "Give us a moment, Reynolds."

"Yes, sir." He grabbed a towel. Tossed one to Evan who caught it with his right hand. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Yes. Thanks, Jace."

John waited until the other man had departed. He strolled to his second in command. "Still?"

"Yes, sir. Getting better, but..." He sighed.

John nodded. Not needing to say anything. He knew all about the injury. The way the bullet had pierced the other's man arms, ligaments. Oddly finding the exact spot to almost permanently disable him despite several surgeries. That shot had nearly ended his military career. Had nearly ended his life. Had nearly ended his artistic endeavors as well. The shot fired by Moira. To save John's life. Her quick shot before Evan had had the chance to shoot John. When he was mutated and a threat to the city, to everyone, or so it had seemed. Moira's oddly lucky shot had rendered the other man a liability. No longer a threat to her husband. Oddly there was no lingering animosity between the two men. The same could not be said for Evan and Moira. "I want you to lead my team on a mission, major. Feel up to it?"

"Sir?" Evan blinked.

"I need to stay here. So I was thinking you could lead my team. It's a routine mission. Ground work's already been laid. Just need to extricate this power source if it's viable. You'll have to put up with McKay, but we all have to do that. What do you think?"

Evan shrugged. Winced but replied, "I'd like to do that, sir. I haven't been back in the field since, well...you know." He left the words unsaid. But both men knew them. Knew of Moira's culpability. "When do we leave, sir?"

"In twenty. A quick debrief and then you will be on your way. Get prepped."

"Thank you, sir."

Children were shouting. Racing round and playing. Loud voices issuing challenges. High-spirited. Richard Woolsey made his precarious way around them, through them. Holding his briefcase above his head like a life preserver. He made his way to the control room, glancing back to see the chaos. "Shouldn't they be on another level?"

"They're fine." John joined him, glancing at the children. Nevertheless he said loudly, "junior! Level two!"

The children stopped. Johnny Sheppard nodded, eying his father. "Yes, daddy! Level two. Let's go, now!" He began to usher the other children out of the room.

"Thank you, colonel. I've got everything I need for the alliance negotiations but I–"

"Daddy! Daddy, hi!" Seamus Sheppard interrupted, running to his father. He grabbed his father's leg, staring up at him.

John smiled. Hoisted the little boy up to his arms. "Hey, buddy! Whatcha doin'?" he asked in a deliberate drawl.

The little boy laughed. "Daddy! Playin' tag! You wanna play tag?" he asked, trying to imitate the way his father spoke, the exaggerated accent. It was a game between them. Only them.

"Later, sport. Go on, now. Git!" He set the boy onto the floor. Seamus giggled, ran after his brother and his playmates. John watched him go. Eyed Woolsey. "You're taking a squad."

"Of course, but I hardly think it is necessary. There are reports you need to fill out while I am gone. The IOA wants a full accounting of recent missions, down to the last penny. Again. Speaking of missions shouldn't you be on one?"

"I've delegated it to Lorne."

"Oh? Is he up to it? Of course he is since you gave it to him," Richard answered his own question. "May I ask why you aren't going?"

"No. Make sure you check in at fourteen hundred."

"Of course. Of course." Richard knew when to push, and when not to push. Now was one of those times. He nodded. Adjusted his grasp on his briefcase and strolled to the Stargate where a team of marines awaited him.

Moira sat in her room, rocking the baby on her lap as she fed her a bottle. Moira was staring at nothing, thoughts far away. Not even paying attention to the infant she was feeding. Lost in herself. In memories. She didn't love the baby. Felt disconnected. Indifferent at times. Took care of it. Fed it. Changed it. Bathed it. Consoled it and even played with it. But all her actions were mechanical. Automatic. Without feeling. Her love would blossom for her sons. For her husband. They were more precious to her than anything. Anyone. More than the baby in her lap.

She finished. Burped the child. Paced and paced, gently patting until the desired effect occurred. She cleaned up the spittle. Set the baby into her crib. Turned on the mobile and watched it turn and turn. Little animals and flowers in pastel shades adorning it. A pretty melody played. Moira watched, indifferent. Aware enough to know that something was wrong, very wrong, but too tired to really care. She began to clean the nursery. Tidying. Until a wave of tears blinded her. Until resentment choked at her. She was tired of pretending. She gave into it, knowing full well that John would sense it. His heightened awareness both a blessing and a curse. Of course he was clueless about many things. Still a man, however evolved.

She sat on the floor, clutching a wooly mammoth stuffed animal. It had once been hers. Had been appropriated first by Johnny, then Seamus. She hadn't minded. She hid her face against it, letting the tears flow. The emotions a storm shaking her, no longer bottled up inside her.

John looked up from the desk as Rodney stormed into the office, talking mid-sentence. "...like he knows how to go about this mission in the first place! What are you thinking? He seems fit enough but what if we do run into some kind of trouble? Some kind of tactical I don't know which is not Ronon's strong point but yours! Next you'll be assigning us some damn technician to lead the science teams!"

John quirked a brow. Set aside a report. "I assume you're talking about Lorne?"

"Of course I'm talking about Lorne! Who else? Carson? Are you sure he can do this? Is fit for command of the alpha team? Can handle anything that may–"

"I'm sure," John stated. "And you'll take charge if need be, right? You can disarm anyone by your endless babbling." John paused. Felt a weird vibration. An ululation of sorrow, anger. Moira. He stood.

"Oh ha ha," Rodney replied, oblivious to John's sudden reaction. "Yes, I will! I will, if need be! Damn it! Hey! Where do you think you are going? I have a lot to add! A lot to add!" he complained, as John was moving towards the doorway. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" He followed John down the stairs. "I haven't finished yet!"

"Do you ever?" John snapped. "Go on the damn mission already!" John hastened his steps. Feeling every frequency of his wife's emotions. Wondering at it. The strange mixture of sorrow and anger and guilt colliding, colliding.

"Sheppard! Sheppard! John, damn it!" Rodney called.

John ignored the calls. Once away from everyone he increased his speed. Was at his quarters in mere seconds instead of minutes. He paused. Head tilting. Eyes slitting as he took in everything. He crossed to the nursery. Blinked. Emily was fussing in her crib. "Hey, Ems," he soothed. "It's all right. Ssh." He stepped round the mess of toys and blankets. Touched the baby. The little girl cooed at him. Calmed. He crossed through the suite of rooms. To find Moira in their bedroom. Packing. Flinging books and papers into a suitcase. The room was a mess. As if she had been searching for something and hadn't found it. Or had found it and didn't give a damn about the rest. "Moy?"

She froze. Cursed to herself. "Go away."

He stepped to her. Caught her hands, stilling them. "Moira? What the hell is this?"

She met his gaze. Angry. Sullen. "I'm leaving you."

He blinked. Had not expected that. "What?"

"You...you ruined it, John. You ruined it!"

"Ruined what, exactly?"

"This! Our little circle! It was perfect! Perfect! Until you..."

"Until I what?" He glanced across the rooms. Listening. Met her gaze. "You mean Ems?"

Moira wouldn't answer. Couldn't. She lowered her gaze. Freed her hands to continue packing. "I'm going to Pleistocene Park. I'm taking Seamus with me. He's always wanted to go there. If I can remember how to be a paleozoologist I may even get some actual, important work done."

"Ah. That again? Moy, we've had this discussion. We–"

"No! You had this discussion, colonel! Not me. Not me!" She moved but he caught her. "Let go of me!"

"Fuck, no. Talk to me, sweetheart. This is only natural. The doctor said you'd feel like this for a few–"

"The doctor said? Fuck the doctors, John! Let go of me!" She struggled, but he held her firmly. "John! John!" The baby started to cry.

"Fuck, no," he repeated. "Moira, you need to calm down. Talk to me. I thought you were okay with this. I thought you were getting better."

"Getting better? Okay with this?" She shoved free of him. "Fuck you, John! Do I look okay? Do I look better? I can't do this! I can't! I never wanted this! I never wanted...I never wanted her! I was happy with our little circle! With you! Johnny! Seamus! Not this! Not this...this aberration!"

He frowned. "Ems is not an aberration, Moira! You know that perfectly well! What is this now, _Rosemary's Baby_? She is fine! You know that!"

"Do I? You...you lied to me! You said you, you said you would stop the pregnancy if it became too much! You told me it was fine! That is wasn't anything but a, a normal human fetus but you lied! You impregnated me while you were in the throes of mutation and your made me carry it to term and you didn't even give a shit about me or how I felt or even if I wanted that damn–"

Suddenly Moira was on the bed. Under John. His body pinning hers as his hand covered her mouth. Eyes glaring at her. "Enough, Moira! You stop right there! If you had been in any serious danger I would have ended the pregnancy and you damn well know it! Just as you know that Ems is fully human! Fully! Maybe more so, like me now. Is that what you're afraid of? That she'll be like me? She's not Wraith, not at all! So you just stop all of this shit now! You hear me! Stop it now!" He freed her mouth.

She glared at him. "No. I am leaving you, John, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it! Not a damn thing!"


	3. Chapter 3

An Atlantis Christmas Carol3

John smiled. It sent a shiver through Moira. Although pinning her to the bed, although angry with her she knew he would never hurt her. Still, the smile was chilling. The way his head tilted slightly. His eyes briefly slitting, then becoming normal again. The sheer strength in his arms as he held her down. "Oh yes, I can, Moira. You are going no where." He moved off her, a fluid, graceful movement. Was on his feet, staring down at her. "It's all right, Ems. Daddy's coming. Don't you fucking move, baby. Like I won't know where you are or what you are going to do? I can find you whenever I want."

Moira cursed, sat as he moved to the nursery. Hating him. Herself. The baby. She felt a wave of tears. Feeling trapped. "I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this," she muttered.

"Tough. You've got this, so deal," John said, entering the room. He was holding the baby. The infant was calmer but still pouting. Big blue eyes full of tears.

Moira refused to look at them. Loving the man but not the child he held. The child he had given her. Deliberately given her while mutating. He couldn't be blamed, not entirely. He hadn't been quite himself, reacting to the wrong treatments which were making him into a curious hybridization of human and Wraith and progenitor. She still had the occasional nightmare.

"Moira, sweetheart, it's all right. You know that. It's nothing we can't handle. So far every test has come back clear."

"So far," she muttered. Not convinced. Would never be convinced.

"Yes, so far," he agreed. "Look, I know. I mean I read about this stuff. Postpartum depression stuff and all that. Just relax, Moira. Things will get better."

She turned to him, glaring. "Is that what you think this is? Postpartum depression? It's not! It's not! It's...it's her!" She pointed at the baby. The infant gurgled, blinking.

"Moy, look, I know neither of us had planned on another child so soon but she's here now so we have to–"

"You! You planned! Not me! Not me!" She stood. "I've got work to do! Actual science! Not some more damned child-bearing! I hate you!" She stormed out of the room. The baby began to cry, heart-rending sobs.

"Shit. Ssh, ssh, Ems, she didn't mean that," John soothed, kissing the infant. At a loss as to what to do, what to say. He knew Moira loved him. Loved their sons. Even loved the baby if she would only allow herself. He sighed. "Women," he muttered.

Moira sat in the biology lab. Displaying different pictures on the computer. Seamus sat in her lap, all smiles. He grinned, pointing. "Mastodon!"

Moira smiled, kissed him. "Yes, honey! That's right. And this one?"

"Mammut!"

"Mammoth, yes. And because of the long hair what kind?"

"Wooly mammoth! Like Mr. Wooly!"

"Yes," she praised. "Like your toy Mr. Wooly. The long fur coat helps them survive in the Ice Ages. A very, very cold, long winter. And this?"

Seamus chewed his lower lip a moment, staring. "An in...an indocthingy?"

She gently laughed, kissed the child. "Indocotherium, yes. The largest land mammal to have ever lived. And you will see them, Seamus! You will see all of them and even more when we go to Pleistocene Park."

"Really, mommy?" the little boy asked, gazing up at her.

"Yes, honey. And you can help me catalog them."

"No, he won't."

"Daddy! Daddy, look! Daddy, look at mammut!" Seamus sprang from his mother's lap to run to his father. John smiled down at him. Hoisted the child up into his arms.

"Hey, buddy! Whatcha doin'?"

"Workin' with mommy!"

"Ah."

Moira turned, smiling at her son's enthusiasm, John's teasing tone. Their silly game. But she frowned. John was carrying Seamus to her. As he pushed the stroller as well. The baby was within it, making gurgling sounds as she stared round.

John saw his wife's expression change. "Moira," he said sternly.

She turned away from him. "What do you want? To stop me from teaching my own son now?"

"Our son, and no. I want you to get a grip. Look after Ems. Here you go, sport."

Seamus was set down. He moved to his mother, climbed into her lap. "Mommy?"

"It's all right, honey. I won't let daddy turn you into a soldier like he is trying to do with Johnny. No, you can be a scientist."

"I'll teach him the same things I am teaching Johnny. What they both need to know in order to survive out here," John countered. "It's not all right, Moira. Not by a long shot." The baby began to fuss. Little arms in the air. "Moira."

"I'm busy here with Seamus. You take care of her."

"She's hungry."

"Now, Seamus, what is this one?" Moira asked, ignoring John. Ignoring the infant as she began to cry. Soft stuttering sounds that would only increase in volume.

"Moira! Damn it!" John took Seamus from her.

"No! John, give me my son!"

"Our son, and not until you take care of our daughter! Ours, Moy! Never mind how or when she was conceived, she's here now and fully human!"

"Daddy? Daddy, why shout? Mommy! Mommy!"

"Easy, son. Let's go. Mommy needs to feed Ems."

"John! John!" Moira called, but John was carrying the little boy out of the lab. "John!" The baby started to wail. Moira cursed. Stood. "Fine! Fucking soldier!" she muttered, knowing he would easily hear her although far from her now. She grabbed the stroller. Wheeled it back to her rooms. Scarcely looking at the red-faced, unhappy infant bawling inside of it.

The baby was fed. Napping. Moira stared down at her. Warmly despite herself. The little girl was in a pink sleeper decorated with purple and green kittens. Dark hair a tangle of curls. Little hands curled into fists. A fighter. Stubborn, just like her brothers. Just like her father. Moira sighed. She did love the baby, just not as she loved her sons. She knew John was right. Emily was fully human. So far. In fact she didn't even have the ATA gene. Not even one, let alone two like her brothers. Moira puzzled over that. She sighed again. Reached down to brush a stray curl off the baby's rosy cheek. Her little mouth was moving in a sucking motion.

She turned suddenly. John was in the doorway, watching her. Concern on his handsome face. Assessing. Pensive. She shrugged. Looked back at the crib. The infant. "Sorry," she whispered. The word catching in her throat as a wave of emotion came and went.

John stepped to her. Stood next to her. Eyes on his infant daughter now. "It's all right, Moy. It will be all right, I promise you. We've been through a lot, I know. First me and my, um, my mutations and evolution. Then you and the pregnancy. The early birth. I know. Things will settle down once we get Ems on a routine. Like we did with Johnny and then Seamus." He touched his wife's back. "You can talk to me, Moira." She was silent. "That's why I insisted on the holiday. On Christmas this year. To bring us all together. As a family. To bring the city together too. After what I did when I wasn't myself." He wouldn't say it aloud. The murder of Katie Brown. Couldn't.

"I see," she finally said.

"Do you?" He slid his arm round her waist. Kissed her cheek. "Moira, it's important to me. For us. For our little circle here. It's still perfect. Our little circle. Bigger now, but still perfect. Still ours."

"I just...you...John? I...you...so much has happened. The boys were, were finally getting old enough now, you know? And then you, you saddle me with another baby!"

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry. But we'll manage, okay? You will have plenty of help here. You need only ask," he gently chastised.

She sighed. The one person who would have been the most help was gone. Killed. Murdered by the man beside her. She bit her lower lip. Turned to him. Hugged him. "John."

He kissed her brow. Held her close. He could feel the well of grief engulfing her. Unsaid. Grief for Katie. Although she never blamed him. Never accused him. Had in fact saved him from a complete transformation into a monster. He stroked Moira's back, watching his infant daughter. A child unplanned. But not unwanted. Not really. Moira was more worried than anything else. But he wasn't worried. Not at all.

She pulled back from him. Eyes wet. "John? Shouldn't you be working?"

"Yeah. But this is more important, Moy." He ran a finger along her cheek. Caught a stray tear. Lost himself in her deep brown eyes. "I hate seeing you like this. It kills me to be the cause of it all. My Moira."

"No, not you, the–"

"Me, I know. Don't you think I know? Everyone dances around what I did. What you did. But especially what I did. Even me, actually. And then this...Ems...ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?" she asked, losing herself in his brilliant green eyes. Pensive expression. Caught by his sheer beauty. His warmth.

"That she was born here. The only one of ours to be born here. In Atlantis. And she doesn't even have the ATA gene."

"Oh. Yes, I guess."

"Or the piggyback gene, or any of my other mutations or weird, um, stuff."

"So far," she whispered.

"So far," he agreed. "And she won't. Nothing like that touches my little girl. Nothing."

She smiled at his determination. Touched his chest, charmed by his utter gravity. "I see. With you as her father no boy will touch her either."

"Damn right they won't," he agreed, but he smiled. "No one is good enough for my little princess. Hell, no one in the galaxy is good enough. Hell, no one in either galaxy is good enough for my Miss Kitty there."

"Oh please!" She pushed at him playfully, rolling her eyes.

He laughed. "What? It's true."

"I forget how overzealously protective you can be, colonel. Poor Emily," she sighed. "She doesn't stand a chance, does she?"

"Not one," he agreed. "And neither does any boy coming in six yards of her. I'm almost as overzealously protective as I am over you, baby. You and that pert little ass."

"Shut up," she scolded. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Do I?" he asked, tilting his head, flirting. He smiled. "Yeah, I do. With that pert little ass."

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room! Incoming IDC request!" announced a man over the PA.

"Crap," John muttered. He kissed Moira. "Are we okay, baby?"

"Yes, sweetie, go."

"All right. I'll have to work on that pert little ass later, then. Damn it."

"Will you just go?" she laughed, pushing at him.

"Going." He kissed her again. "Moira."

Moira smiled, watching him leave. "Finest six in the galaxy, colonel!"

"Damn right it is, baby!" he called over his shoulder.

Moira laughed. Felt calmer. More like herself. But the baby started to fuss. Moira sighed, turned to the crib. "Crap," she muttered.

John sprinted to the control room. Slowing to normal speed as he neared people. He still had to be careful. Was walking a fine line here and he knew it. "Status?" he barked, striding to the consoles.

"Unknown IDC, sir. It's ours, but scrambled."

"Then unscramble it, lieutenant!" John eyed the shimmering wormhole. The shield was in place. Iris closed, blocking all ingress. He waited. Scowled. Folded his arms across his chest. McKay would have done it before John had made the request. Even Zelenka would have done it by now. He stared at the hapless lieutenant. The younger man was nervous. Feeling his commanding officer's glare. "Well?" John snapped. "Now would be nice. Before lunch would be even better!"

"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir! Here it is, sir! It's..." His voice broke off in astonishment.

"What is it? Are you going to make me guess?" John snapped.

"No, sir! It's...it's...yours." The man turned in his chair, incredulous expression on his face. "Sir...it's you!"


	4. Chapter 4

An Atlantis Christmas Carol4

"What?" John snapped. But he knew. He knew. "Son of a bitch!" he snarled. He crossed to another console. Activated the monitor, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He stared at the incoming data. The anomaly was inert. No alarms had been triggered. The safeguards were still in place, just waiting. There was no trace of any electrical activity miles beneath the city. Down in the depths of the ocean. It shouldn't have been possible. Yet he knew that it was.

"Sir? Should I..." the man halted his words as John raised a hand. Silencing him.

John tapped his earpiece. "Citywide! Johnny Sheppard! Code purple STAT!"

Johnny stopped in mid-stride, leg raised to kick a ball. It rolled past him but he was oblivious, hearing his father's stern voice over the PA. The words. The code. "Crap," he muttered. "Seamus! Let's go! Now!" He ran to his younger brother, tugged at his arm.

"What? What daddy want?" the younger boy asked, perplexed.

"Code purple! We have to go to mommy! Now!" He pulled his brother into a run.

Moira was pacing, burping the baby when John's stern voice broke over the air. "What the..." She tapped her earpiece, adjusting the baby on her shoulder as the infant gurgled. "John? What's going on? What is–"

"Not now, Moy! Lock down!" he briefly informed in her ear.

"John? John!"

"Mommy, mommy, code purple!" Johnny ran to her, Seamus on his heels.

"Easy, loves, we're okay. John, what is going on? John!" She swore, watching as the doors to their quarters began to close, one by one. The panels briefly flared with light, then faded. "Wonderful,"she muttered. Met the gazes of her anxious sons. "I'm sure it's nothing, loves. Daddy is just making sure we are safe here, and we are. Don't you worry now."

She began to pace around the room again.

John's hand was pressed to the console. He concentrated. Felt his family all together in their quarters. Felt their worry, their agitation. He initiated the lock down sequences. Securing each room. Locking the doors. Sealing off each end of the hallway. A force field rose from the floor, emitting a blue glow. Keeping them even safer. Shields lowered over the windows, blocking all ingress to them. It only took a few seconds, but John didn't allow himself to relax until he was sure all the protocols had been activated. Keyed to his commands and his alone.

"Sir?" The lieutenant was watching him.

John freed the console. Tapped his earpiece again. "Delta squad, to the 'Gate room STAT! Weapons at the ready! Open the Iris. Drop the shield." As the Iris swirled and the shield lowered John sprinted into the 'Gate room. He stood waiting. Heard the marines join him, flanking his position. P90s all aimed at the shimmering wormhole.

John glared at the wormhole.

Glared at the man who emerged from it.

Glared at himself.

"John? John, copy? John!" Moira frowned. There was only silence in her ear. John had evidently cut off his earpiece. She looked round the room. Looked at her sons. "Johnny, can you open the doors?"

"No, mommy. Code purple," Johnny gravely explained, shaking his head.

"I do it!" Seamus volunteered.

"No, Seamus! Code purple!" Johnny reiterated, frowning just like his father. He even folded his arms across his chest. Stood blocking the younger boy.

Moira had to smile. "All right. Don't you worry, Seamus. We can wait, Johnny, okay? Daddy will take care of it, whatever it is. Or who." She wondered. Realized John would only initiate these extreme measures for one of two situations. Either the Wraith had invaded Atlantis.

Or his darker self had.

John stood, glaring at his doppelganger. His alternate self from an alternate reality. A darker, grimmer reality. A darker, grimmer version of himself. His other self appeared less haggard then the last time they had met. Scruffy, somewhat bearded, all in black. Nearly mirroring John's own appearance. John didn't say a word. Just waited. Tension coiling in him. He could feel the surge of anger, hatred. Protection of his family foremost in his mind.

Sheppard returned the gaze. Stared a moment as John's eyes seemed to slit, like a cat's. Or a Wraith's. Then returned to normal. His hands at his sides were curled into fists, then opened as he mastered his emotions. His reaction. Sheppard spread his empty hands. "I'm unarmed, Johnny-boy. I was hoping you wouldn't be here."

"How the hell did you–" John began, furious.

"Different anomaly. On another planet. We're able to travel to several realities now. Different universes. McKay's got the PUT to an art form. Nearly."

"PUT?"

"Parallel Universe Travel. I know, I really shouldn't let him name things."

"No, you shouldn't." A pause. "What the hell do you want?"

"Intel. On a new species."

"Moira," John realized.

"Yes, I need her expertise. That's all. Intel. I'm by myself. No ship. No men. No weapons."

"Scan him."

Sheppard smiled. Stood still as a beam of light swept over him. Red lines crisscrossing, then were gone.

"He's clean, sir."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just shove your ass back through the 'Gate right now?"

"Intel. You'll need this one day, Johnny-boy. When you run into them. And trust me, you will. The probabilities are quite high as this same scenario has played out in several realities. So?"

John considered, pushing past his own emotions. "Take him to a holding cell. If he tries anything, and I mean anything...kill him."

"That's harsh, isn't it, Johnny-boy? After all, we're allies. Saved each other's cities, didn't we?" Sheppard asked, even as the marines surrounded him.

"Go! Once you get your damn intel you are gone!"

Moira heard a noise. She looked over as did the boys. Even the baby stared as the doors were opening. Lights flashed, were gone. Blinds lifted from the windows. She stood as John entered the room. She froze. Knowing by his expression, his demeanor. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Daddy! Daddy, daddy!" The boys ran to him.

John smiled, knelt to catch them. Hugged them. "Hey, guys! It's all right. Everything's fine. Don't you worry now. Good job, captain!" He stood, freeing them.

"John? How? How did he–"she stammered, as the baby gurgled in her arms.

"Another anomaly on another planet. The bastard. He needs some kind of intel on a new species, more than likely those aliens he showed you last time. Then he's gone, Moira. Gone."

She nodded. Startled. Intrigued. Worried. She moved to the table, snatching her data pad with her free arm. "I–"

"Maggie will look after them." John took the baby from her, handed the infant to an older woman who entered the room.

"Daddy, no! Daddy, where mommy go! Mommy!" Johnny cried. He dimly remembered something similar happening. A bad man who looked like daddy had taken mommy away from him. He ran to Moira, grabbed her leg.

"Mommy!" Seamus joined him, seeing his brother's distress but not knowing the cause.

She knelt as the little boys clung to her. Tears in their eyes. "Easy, now, loves. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Mommy, mommy, it's the bad man, isn't it? Mommy!" Johnny said.

"Yes, darling. But I promise I won't leave you. I won't leave the city." She kissed him.

"Mommy! Who bad man?" asked Seamus.

"It's all right, honey." She kissed them, extricated herself and stood.

John took her arm. "Don't you worry, buddy. I won't let mommy out of my sight, I promise. Don't you worry, sport. Everything is fine. Code yellow, captain." He guided Moira out of the room. Disliking events as much as his sons. Even more so. He found his hold tightening on her arm and he gentled his grasp before he inadvertently hurt her. "Moy, I hate this," he confided, voice low as they walked down the hallway. "Every instinct is telling me to shove him through the 'Gate right now. But these aliens...if we do happen to encounter them..."

"We'll need all the data we can get," she finished for him. "It will be all right, John. Especially now. I mean with your, um, your heightened senses and all. Right?"

"Yes. Still...I...you...you have a history with him. Apart from me. A different history, with an unaltered Sheppard. I just...I..." He stopped, turning to her. Suddenly couldn't meet her gaze, had to look at the floor. Licked his lips, uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Awkward. "Look, Moy...I'm just saying...you two...I mean...it's me, but it's not. And you've been with him. And me. He...he took you from me. You went to save me, to save the city, I know...you, you sent Johnny back to me because you were pregnant with Seamus...but you...he took you from me."

Moira touched his arm. Touched his face. Her fingers gentle. "John...he won't take me away from you again." She kissed him as he met her gaze. "You are my husband, John. Only you. Let's just get this over with, shall we? The boys will be worried. Especially Johnny."

"Yeah. Okay, Moy." They resumed walking. He glanced at her. Could sense her agitation, curiosity, but also her anticipation which rankled him. He fought it down, this ridiculous jealousy of himself, of a different version of himself. He stopped her again. "Moy. Don't trust him. He's not me. You know that already, but I just don't want you to see him any differently than I do. As a potential threat. A danger. An enemy."

"All right, John."

"You, you love me, Moy. Not him."

"All right, John. Easy now," she soothed. Resumed walking.

He stared after her. Quickly caught up to her. At a gesture the marines parted, stepped out of the room. John nodded, followed Moira into the room. Approached the holding cell with her. Stomach tensing. His hand strayed down to his gun, holstered securely at his thigh. He stopped when she did. Stood right behind her, glowering past her at the man in the cell.

At the only man who could steal her affections from him.

Himself.


	5. Chapter 5

An Atlantis Christmas Carol5

Moira froze. Holding onto her data pad with both hands as she stared at the man in the holding cell. Her husband's dark doppelganger. Another John Sheppard from a different reality. A reality in which she no longer existed. A harsher reality where a war had been fought with the ATA-enabled Wraith. An Atlantis that was purely military, and lacking many familiar faces lost to the war. This man was different from her husband, yet the same. She could feel her husband standing behind her. Protective. Hostile.

Sheppard stared back at her through the blue haze of the force field. Drinking in the sight of her. Memories flooding, of their brief times together. Working. Sleeping. Having sex. She had helped him raise the city. Had even shared a life with him, however briefly. But not her heart. Never her heart, despite how sympathetic she was towards him. "Moira." His rasping voice curled around her name like a blanket. He smiled. Pulled a device from his pocket.

Instantly John was in front of his wife. Gun raised, aimed in a fluid, blinding motion.

"Just a flash drive, Johnny-boy. Calm down," Sheppard remonstrated. It had appeared that John had moved and drawn his gun in the blink of an eye. Impossibly fast.

"Set it near the door. On the floor."

Sheppard did so. Smiled. Stepped back from it. "Moira, you are so beautiful. Even more so than the last time we were–"

"Can it!" John holstered his weapon. Squatted. Touched the panel. In the blink of an eye the force field faded. John snatched the flash drive. The force field resumed. It only took three seconds, if that.

To Sheppard's eyes it appeared as if John had simply placed his hand through the force field and back out of it. "Impressive, Johnny-boy. Where'd you learn that trick? And the eyes...what happened to you?"

John ignored him. Stood. Looked at the flash drive in his hand. "Here." He handed it to Moira.

She took it, eyes still on Sheppard. She looked at it, inserted it. Tapped keys. Tapped more. "It's not working."

"You need my DNA to activate it. Oh, I guess his," Sheppard informed. "Didn't I tell mention that?" He shrugged.

John glared at him. Stepped to Moira and placed his thumb on the indentation. Nothing happened. He frowned, tried his forefinger. Still nothing. He met Moira's gaze. The unspoken realization passing between them. That John's DNA was so altered the other reality's technology didn't recognize it as belonging to John Sheppard. Any John Sheppard. Like it always had previously. "Why?" John asked quietly. "I have no trouble here."

"The city knows you. Altered with you," she whispered. Gently moved his hand off the data pad. As startled as her husband. She turned to the cell. "We'll need his. Open the door."

"No."

"John! You're right here, aren't you? Open the door!" She stepped to the cell. "You'll need to initialize it," she explained.

Sheppard had been watching the entire time. He quirked a brow. "He couldn't?" He glanced at John. "What the hell has happened to him?"

"Stand back!" John snarled. He deactivated the force field. "If you so much as look at her the wrong way I will send you packing!"

Sheppard merely smiled. Stepped back from the cleared doorway. Open, empty hands raised.

Moira entered, John on her heels. "Here, colonel." She held out the data pad. He stepped next to her. Pressed his thumb to the flash drive. It lit up and came to life. "What's on here, colonel? Oh!" she exclaimed as data was filling the screen.

"We finally got a sample," Sheppard explained. Eyes on Moira. "Tissue. My men can't make heads or tails of it. Now that the city is secure I am bringing back some civilians. Scientists. But I don't have Carson. I don't have you. And none of them are you, Moira. See what you can make of this. It's beyond my men's capabilities. But not yours."

"Have you had contact with them?" she asked, brown eyes widening at the scrolling data.

"Bare minimum. We ran into a scouting party. It wasn't pretty. Ronon...he lost an arm."

"Ronon?" John asked, surprised.

Sheppard briefly met his gaze. "Yes. He's more pissed than upset by it. We've actually had to form an alliance, of all things. With the, with the Wraith."

"The Wraith?" Moira asked, staring at him.

"Yes." He met her gaze. "They're not as much as a threat as this new species is. Believe it or not. It goes against every instinct I have but it's either that or fight two enemies on two different fronts which would stretch our limited resources to the breaking point. These aliens are indiscriminate killers. If they are the spearhead of an invasion force we need to stop them now. I need every advantage I can get, Moira."

"Of course. I'll see what I can–"

"Let's go. Moira, you can go over this in our rooms. And be done in an hour," John decided.

"What? An hour?" She looked at him. "John! That's hardly enough time to collate the data much less make any genetic comparisons or even preliminary conclusions of the–" Suddenly she was pulled into Sheppard's arms. He kissed her. His mouth colliding with hers, tongue darting into her open mouth. At the same time he slipped another flash drive into the pocket of her pants. Fingers gliding into the material to shove the tiny device down, down. Fingers a brief whisper along her pelvis, stroking.

"Fuck you!" John shoved Sheppard away from his wife. It was a small shove but Sheppard was knocked backwards as a fist flew into his mouth. He flew across the cell, landed hard on the other side of it.

"No, John! I'm fine!" Moira objected, flustered. Not only by Sheppard's long, invasive fingers but by his tongue. His mouth. He tasted like John Sheppard. Like John had tasted before his mutations. Before his evolution.

Sheppard groaned, sat. Wiped blood off his lip but more spilled. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked, impressed by the speed, the strength of his other self.

"John! I'll need a sample!" she hissed, pulling free of his grasp on her arm. She moved to Sheppard. Knelt. Produced a kleenex and wiped the blood off his mouth, off his chin. Her motions gentle.

Sheppard's gaze locked with hers. So much unsaid. So much emotion between them. An odd mixture of love and hate. Concern and resentment. He touched her hand at his lips. Held it there a moment. A slight caress of his fingers on her skin. Until she drew away, folding the kleenex carefully. She stood. Moved to John who was watching. Eyes narrowed. Tension in every line of his body. "We need to run a comparison,"she explained. Briskly exited the cell.

John followed her. Activated the force field. "You just couldn't resist, could you?" he taunted. "Too fucking bad, colonel! You just ruined what little tolerance I had for you, for this. You are gone in one hour." John moved to follow Moira. Easily kept pace with her. Always could even before his enhanced abilities. "So? Tell me."

"Tell you what?" she asked, too quickly. Tensing. Hearing his anger, his jealousy. "I haven't had time to make heads or tails of this yet." She winced, regretting using the same words as Sheppard.

"Was it better?" John asked, scowling. "Do you prefer the unaltered John Sheppard to me?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Am I being ridiculous, Moira? Am I?" he asked, voice rising in volume but he fell silent as they entered their quarters.

"Mommy! Mommy, mommy!"

She smiled as the boys ran to her. Swarmed and grabbed onto her. She knelt, kissed each one. "See? I'm right here, loves, don't you worry now. I have work to do. Right here." She stood, set the data pad onto the table. Took the baby from Maggie. "Thank you." She moved to the table, sat. Powered the lap top as she bounced the baby on her lap.

Johnny stood close, hand on her leg. Making sure she was there, that she wasn't leaving him again. Seamus moved to his father. Tugged his leg. "Daddy, daddy, who bad man?

"Never you mind, sport." He nodded as Maggie left. Watched his wife. Patted his son's shoulder to reassure him.

"My God!" Moira exclaimed, absorbed by the data. "John! This is, this is extraordinary! This is just preliminary data, of course but my God! John! These aliens are not even remotely human! Not even close. They have 33 chromosome pairings, that's ten more than we do! And they have...they have twice as many genetic codes...an extra letter...more...the proteins are slightly different and additional...no ATA, thank goodness but the...the...part machine, an organic...a neural interface of biological and something not...there's an enzyme trace but not like the..." She paused. "What?"

They were all staring at her. John. Johnny. Seamus. Even the baby was staring up at her, little mouth open.

John smirked. "Easy on the science, doctor."

"Oh. Sorry. But this is, is unprecedented! A wholly new life form, John! Not even indigenous to this galaxy!"

"Easy, baby, don't get too excited," John teased. "Keep at it. You've got an hour."

"An hour? No, sweetie! An hour is hardly enough time to–"

"Don't care. An hour."

She sighed. Produced the bloody kleenex and handed it to him. "Then get this to Carson for a full blood analysis, John. Please, it's important. For you."

"Fine. An hour, Moy. I'm not budging on this. I'll head Carson your way to confer." He eyed the little boys clustering near their mother. "Keep an eye on mommy, guys."

"Daddy? Is code yellow a go still?" Johnny asked.

"No, son. Rescinded. Stand down."

"Daddy, daddy, what code wellow?"

"Yellow," John corrected, "and you'll learn soon enough. I'll be back ASAP."

Moira sat back. Chewing her lower lip. She removed the flash drive. Glanced round but she was quite alone. All three children were napping at last. She removed the second flash drive from her pocket. Inserted it. Unlike the first one it wasn't locked by any genetic code. The data flowed onto the screen. She sat, staring. Reading over it. Mouthing the words in surprise. Mind reeling over the consequences. The things not revealed.

She felt a weird mixture of emotions. Surprise. Jealousy. Sympathy. Relief. She tried to dampen down her reactions, realizing that any strong emotion would be picked up by John, no matter where he was in the city. No matter what he was doing. Wonderful at times. Annoying at others. Like this.

She removed the second flash drive. Placed it back in her pocket and restored the first one. It filled the screen once more. She waited for Carson.

Sheppard paced, paced in his cell. Impatient. Finding it ironic to be in a cell. Considering how he had imprisoned John years ago. But not unexpected. Not at all. Sheppard found himself more intrigued by the curious changes in his doppelganger. He wondered how long he would be kept like this. Hoped it would be long enough. He knew Moira would come to him. It was only a matter of when. He recalled the press of his mouth on hers. The taste of her. His fingers deep in the pocket of her pants. Close, but not close enough.

He rubbed his sore jaw. Wondering again what had happened to John. Not only changing him physically but genetically as well. He would have to ask Moira.

Once she found a way to see him.

John stood in the control room. "And you're sure?"

Radek Zelenka nodded. "Yes! For the fifth time, yes! He's telling the truth! He didn't come through our anomaly. If he had he would have been pulverized. The 'Gate address is P1R927. A typical backwater planet. Nothing of significance there."

"Except an active anomaly," John grumbled. "We'll have to have McKay shut it down like he did ours."

"Is that wise, colonel? I mean perhaps we should leave that one open, just in case," Radek suggested, but at John's glower he swallowed. "Or not."

"I vote not."

"Maybe all that he wants is our help," Radek stated.

"No. There's always an agenda with this guy. At least two."

"You do know you are talking about yourself, colonel. Sort of."

"Yes, that's how I know. And no, he's nothing like me!" John stalked to the holding cell. Stepped up to the blue force field. Sheppard was standing in the center of the room. "Hey! What is it you are really after?"

"Dinner. I'm hungry." He smiled. "Wow...looks like I'm the nice one for a change."

"Shut up!"

"Tell me, Johnny-boy, would Moira prefer me now? Something's changed you. What was it? An attack? A virus? Biological warfare? Infection? Experimentation?"

"Once you get your intel you are gone," John replied.

"That really depends on Moira, now doesn't it?"

"No."

"How is that little family of yours, Johnny-boy?"

"Shut up!" John fought the urge to throttle his darker self. He curled his hands into fists. His eyes slitted. He blinked to restore them. Relaxed his hands at his sides.

"Temper, temper, Johnny-boy. With a temper like that I hope that Moira and the boys are safe."

"They'll be safe enough once you are gone!"

"What about dinner? Or don't you feed prisoners in your Atlantis?"

John frowned. "Get him something to eat. If he tries anything, kill him."

"Nice hospitality," Sheppard sneered as John left.


	6. Chapter 6

An Atlantis Christmas Carol6

Moira was pacing, pacing. Whirled as John entered. Stomping into the room. Looking pissed. Sexy. Dangerous. She felt herself react to him, paused as he met her gaze. A quick smile came and went as he detected her amorous interest. Response. Moira frowned. "John?"

"I fucking hate him, Moira."

"John! Language!" She pointed to the closed door. Moved to him. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? My evil fucking, er, fudging doppelganger invades my city and you ask me what's wrong?"

"He didn't invade! He asked for help. John, this data is extraordinary! Carson has a copy now and we both agree that we need more."

John sighed. "Don't you scientists always want more?" A brow quirked. "Or is that just you?"

"Hilarious, John! I'm serious!" She caught his hand. "Come look at this, sweetie."

"Make this quick, Moy, because he leaves in thirty-five."

"No. He can't go."

"What?"

"He can't go yet. Look at this, John!" She drew him to the table where the data pad blinked. "Please." They sat. "I know you don't want things too sciencey, but these codes...there is nothing like this in either galaxy, John! A whole new life form, based on genetic codes and DNA that has little in common with our species! With any species!"

"Don't care," he sulked.

"John! You should care. They have whole sequences that baffled me. Baffled Carson! But then I ran a comparison to our data base, to all known sequencing and–"

"Cut to the chase, Moy. I do hate things that are too sciencey."

"I am. I found similar DNA strands in those evo-devo creatures. You remember?"

"Yeah. The earlier forms of the Wraith, more primitive and less evolved variations of the...wait a minute. You said these things aren't Wraith. Didn't you?"

"They're not."

"Then how can the have Wraith DNA?"

"They don't. I said it was similar, not the same. Not exact. Convergent evolution. In their galaxy they evolved instead of the Wraith."

"Oh. And that means?"

"That means you can draw parallels with them and the Wraith. If we had more to go on we could fully dissect their DNA and see what species they truly are. If evo-devo created them or they are the end product of a long and complicated evolutionary process like the Wraith, although since they are partly artificial they no doubt tampered with their own development and–"

"Whoa, doctor! But the Wraith were created by the Ancients. So you think the Ancients had a hand in this as well? A different experiment gone awry?"

"I don't know. It's possible, but I don't think so. I've added to his flash drive. Pinpointed the differences and similarities to the Wraith and our own species. Narrowed down the field, so to speak. Exploited possible weaknesses and revealed possible strengths. The enzyme, for instance. Different, but close to the one we know. The neural implants alone are worth studying. They could be an enhancement like the Wraith regeneration and could imply that the–"

"Whoa, doctor! Slow down. Sounds like your work is done, at least for him."

"No, it's not. He can't leave yet."

"And why is that, Moira?"

Moira hesitated. "He can't go yet. There's a lot more to process. And I... I need to talk to him." It sounded lame even to her. But she wouldn't lie to John. Nor could she reveal the second flash drive and what was on it. Not yet.

John frowned. Could tell she was concealing something, but not what. He stood. Folded his arms across his chest. Intractable. "No."

Moira sighed. "John! I need more intel. Intel only he can provide as he has seen these aliens firsthand. Please, John." She turned to him. She touched his arm. "This is important. And you damn well know it. The colonel wouldn't have come all this way if it wasn't vital to both of our realities."

"He would. For you."

"No, he wouldn't. John, please. I need to speak with him." She swallowed. Knew the hard sell was coming. "Privately."

He stared at her a moment. "Hell no."

"John!" she snapped, standing. "Will you get over this unnecessary insecurity and macho male posturing! This is important, damn it! I need to speak with him alone and if he does have another agenda you damn well know he will divulge it only to me! You know that! I'll be safe in the cell with him! He can't–"

"I said no, Moira! No!" He pointed at the flash drive. "You put whatever else you need onto that thing! And then he's gone! Got it?" He checked his watch. "Thirty minutes, Moira. You better get that pert little ass to Carson if you want to load up whatever data he's discovered."

"Damn it, John! He can't leave yet! I have to speak to him!"

"And I said no, damn it! No! Are you going to waste time arguing with me or move that pert little ass, doctor?"

"Stop ordering me around like one of your damn marines!" she flared. The baby started to cry.

"Sounds like you are needed here, Moira! Tend to our daughter and I'll get that drive to Carson and get that bastard out of my city!"

"No! You tend to your daughter! I've got work to do! Work! And I will see him!"

"Like hell you will! I said no, Moira! Your work is here, with our family! And you had damn better obey me!"

"Obey you? Fuck you, John! You will not take my work from me! Hell, you've tried to tie me here but I won't be tied here! I won't!"

"You will if I decide it is necessary, Moira! I'll keep you off any team permanently! You will never leave this city unless it is under my supervision!"

"You bastard! You'd do that too, wouldn't you? He said you'd do that! Wrap me so tightly I couldn't breathe!"

"Oh, did he now? And when was this? Before or after he was fucking you!" John all but shouted, furious. His eyes slitted. Pure malice glinted in them. A primal fury. A man betrayed.

Moira gulped at his expression. Suddenly so alien, like a stranger. "Before," she softly answered. Embarrassed. Defiant too.

John blinked. Forced down the fury, the jealousy with an effort. "Sorry. I just...your work is done on this. You will stay right here until he is gone," he said quietly, shoving aside the minefield of emotion with an effort.

She glared. Finding strength in her anger. "Stop trying to control me, John! I was assigned here as a scientist! Not as your wife!"

"You are here as my wife and will do as I say, as your military commander!"

"No. I will do what I think is necessary to–"

"You will do as you are told, Moira, or so help me God I will place you in a cell!" He paused. Looked over to see his sons lingering in the open doorway. Eyes wide. Faces full of surprise, concern. Shock. The baby was a background noise of crying and fussing. "Shit."

"Now see what you've done? You fucking bastard!" she flared quietly. Turned to her sons. "It's all right, loves. We're just having a slight disagreement, is all. Daddy will explain it. I've got work to do."

"Moira! Moira, you get that pert little ass back here! Now!" John flared, but she was gone. He sighed, swore. Turned and approached his sons. "It's all right, guys. Like mommy said we just had a slight disagreement. It happens."

"You were, you were yelling at mommy," Johnny accused. Frowning.

"Mommy!" Seamus began to cry.

The baby wailed.

John gritted his teeth. Wanting nothing more than to chase down his wife and confine her. But his children needed him. He knelt to their eye level. "It's all right. I lost my temper, and that was wrong. I never should yell at mommy. No one should. Even though she was yelling at me," he wryly remarked. "Come on, guys. Let's go take care of Ems and then we can all see mommy."

"You have to make it all better, daddy," Johnny advised.

"Mommy mad," Seamus agreed.

"Yeah, I know. I'll make it all better, don't you worry."

Moira was furious. Striding through the hallways, swinging her data pad under her arm like a weapon. She understood his anger, his jealousy. Resented it all the same. Hated his need to control her, contain her. Knew it was only his overzealous reaction to his one rival. His darker self. The only serious rival to her affections was himself. She sighed. Stopped. "Major."

Evan looked at her. He was standing to one side of the doorway. P90 in his hands. "Doctor."

She stepped to him, glancing at the other man who was on the opposite side of the doorway. "I need to speak to the prisoner." She showed her data pad, as if that was the reason.

"I don't think Colonel Sheppard would appreciate that."

Moira shrugged. "Tough. I need to speak to him. Alone." She waited.

Evan considered. "Is it that important?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I'd better agree, then, so you won't shoot me again."

Moira stared. Startled. It was the first time that Evan had even cracked a joke about the shooting. Had even said a word to her about it. Her hold tightened on the data pad. "Just don't get between me and a Sheppard next time," she replied. Smiled.

Evan smiled, nodded. "Rogers, let's take a stroll up the hallway here. Be careful, Moira. And quick. I don't want another Sheppard angry with me."

"Thank you, Evan." She touched his arm a moment. A tentative reconciliation, of sorts. She entered the room as the two men walked up the hallway. She moved to the cell. Stood looking at Sheppard a moment. He was sitting, his back pressed against the wall. Hands on his knees. Head tilted back, eyes closed. She deactivated the force field. Entered the cell. "Colonel?" She neared. Sat next to him. Touched his shoulder. "Colonel? John, I..." She gasped as he grabbed her wrist, instantly awake. Alert.

Sheppard stared at her. Gentled his hold on her wrist. "Moira?" His gaze darted to the open cell. The lack of guards. Back to her.

"Ssh!" She freed her wrist, powered the data pad. "I need to talk to you. But first here." She showed him the screen. "Everything here is uploaded to your flash drive. There isn't time for me to go over all of it, but these aliens are unlike anything in either galaxy! They do have some similarities to the Wraith, which I've detailed in this, plus a fuller bio scan of the samples you were able to obtain. Here." She handed him the flash drive.

He took it. Placed it into his pocket. "Thank you, Moira. What's the short version?"

"The short version? Oh." S he closed the data pad. Thought a moment. "They're alien."

Sheppard's lips quirked. "Yeah, I got that, Moira. What else?"

She smiled a moment. "I mean completely alien. A new life form, but the similarities to the Wraith suggest convergent evolution in their galaxy with possible antecedents to a wholly different life form unlike the Iratus bug, but their human attributes speak to a possible connection with the–"

"Whoa, whoa, that's the short version?" He shook his head. Eyed her. "You didn't come here to tell me that, did you? Well?"

Moira eyed the data pad. "Is...is Katie Brown in your reality? The botanist?"

"I know whom you mean. Yes. Married to Rodney, in fact. Expecting their first child. Why? Isn't she in yours as well?"

"No. Not any more." She met his gaze. "She's married to Rodney? Pregnant?"

"Yes. I take it none of that happened here?"

"No."

He touched her arm. "I'm sorry. You were friends."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Doesn't matter. I was just...curious. I just needed to know–"

"That she exists in some reality. Yes, I get that. Just as I know you are here. Safe in this reality. Like Lorne is as well. And Carson." He sighed. "I've lost so many, Moira."

She nodded. Handed him the second flash drive. "Here. This...this subject." She stopped. Suddenly unable to say more.

He nodded. Taking the flash drive and placing it into his pocket. "Yes. You already know, don't you, Moira. I have a son."

"The subject...your son? But he only has a single ATA and some small Wraith DNA material. It's not significant. It won't change him, or alter him. In fact what may happen is that the ATA and the Wraith DNA may cancel each other out. Has this happened yet?"

He stared at her. Surprised. "Yes. Sometimes his ATA works, sometimes it doesn't. I couldn't let anyone in my Atlantis know about his, um, his genetic differences. Not after we just fought a war with ATA-endowed Wraith and very nearly lost. I can't trust anyone there with this intel. Only you, Moira. And yes, that is exactly what I needed to know. Is this a long-term thing?"

"Possibly. I've uploaded more data on both, the ATA and the Wraith genome. A very small dose of the retro-virus might eliminate any effects that the Wraith cells have on his ATA. But don't you worry, John. He'll never become a Wraith. He is fully human. The, the mother?"

"Yes," he said, seeing the guess in her eyes. "Teyla. A one-time thing. We were both curious. It was just sex. A by-blow...not planned at all. The child is with me, in the city. Because of his ATA. And other considerations. Thank you, Moira. For this. For all of this." He paused as she fumbled with her lap top. "But that's not why you chose to come to me alone, is it? What happened to John? He's different now. Even I can tell. Is he still human?"

"Of course he's still human! Completely! Just um...evolved." She hesitated. But the need to unburden herself was too great, too pressing. She caught his hand in hers. "John...I...I have a daughter. It's...complicated. Unplanned. Unexpected. I mean we weren't planning on another child for quite some time. The boys, the boys are just about at an age now where I could take them with me to, to work and to Pleistocene Park but then this...it was a , a difficult pregnancy, at times. It happened when John was...was changing, before I figured out how to, how to cure him and stop the, the mutations. The birth was early, and here. Not too early, the baby's fine. So far. So far. She's testing completely human so it's not that it's... me. I um...she doesn't have an ATA...I don't know what the means, exactly." She felt a flood of tears as she stared at their clasped hands. "I really don't have anyone to talk to now. Things are so different now. Everything has changed. Katie's...gone. Carson's a clone. Evan and I aren't as, as close as we once were. And John...he can't see it. Because of what he endured and what he did...and I can't, can't tell him...I can't..."

Sheppard's fingers enclosed hers. Gently squeezed, drawing her tearful gaze to his. "So you came to me. The one person who would understand. The darkness. Who would understand your resentment of John. Your dislike of the baby. You feel caged, trapped now, don't you? Tied to this city in a prison that John made for you. You long to be free, Moira. Didn't I warn you about this? And that makes you feel guilty. Shameful. Because you wish you'd never had that baby, don't you?"

She blushed. "No! I, I don't! I just...I do love the baby, I do! And John! He didn't know what he was doing, he wasn't himself! He–"

"I understand, Moira. The darkness. You were ready to get your life back. Get back to work, since your boys were older now. But your life's been taken away from you again. Your freedom. I know. You never wanted any of this, did you? Did you, really?"

"No! I mean yes! No!" she stammered, startled. She pulled her hand from his. His words too precise. Too accurate.

"Then come with me, Moira. Would you? No, you wouldn't," he answered his own question before she could. "You wouldn't leave your sons. You love them. You even love John, despite how different he is...or indifferent. How he foisted a baby on you that you didn't even want or need or love or–"

"No! He–"

"And you are cut off now, aren't you? As you said. Everything's changed. Everyone's changed. Or is gone. Except you. And me. I'm still John Sheppard, aren't I? More like the original one than your husband now."

"No...not my John," she whispered. Trying to draw away from him. Unable. He was John Sheppard. The brilliant green eyes, unaltered. The scruffy jaw and messy dark hair. The handsome face serious, determined. The full, perfect lips.

"No...but I was. Once. For a little while." He kissed her. A slow, savoring kiss.

Moira pushed, pushed. Scrambled to her feet, clutching her data pad. "No! I don't know why I came here! I don't know why I–"

Sheppard sat, looking at her. Just looking at her. "Of course you do, Moira. We both know. And on some level, even John knows. Isn't that right, Johnny-boy?"


	7. Chapter 7

An Atlantis Christmas Carol7

Moira whirled, clutching the data pad to her chest like a shield. John was standing near the doorway to the cell. Gaze hard, cold as ice. Not on her but on his doppelganger. She gulped. Wondered how much he had heard. How much he had seen. How much he had felt. She darted out of the cell. Activated the force field. She turned to John, but he was still glaring at his darker self. "John, John, I–"

"Not here." Two words. Curt. Terse. Anger radiating. She glanced at Sheppard. Quickly exited the room. Moved past Evan and the other man as they took their positions.

John followed after her. Paused. Eyed the two men. He didn't have to say a word.

Moira hastened her steps, trying not to break into a run. Embarrassed, mortified. Guilty as if she had been caught with her lover by her husband. Except they were the same man. She could hear John behind her. Boots clomping on the floor, noisy, expressing his anger. Chasing after her as she strode through the hallways. She rushed into their quarters. So anxious she almost felt sick.

John followed, silent. He knew. He knew exactly where she had gone. Deliberately ignoring his wishes. He had felt the fall and rise of her emotions when he concentrated. As if he was a violin and she was plucking his strings in some emotional melody. The discordance of anger and sorrow and guilt.

Moira stepped to the table. Set down her data pad. Stared at it a moment. Stomach twisting. She didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do. Frozen.

"You'd best pack now, because he leaves as soon as the 'Gate is dialed."

She whirled. John stood, watching her. Expression unreadable. Voice calm. As if he was suggesting nothing extraordinary. Discussing something as innocuous as the weather. "What?"

"I said you'd best pack now, because he leaves as soon as the 'Gate is dialed," John repeated. Tone reasonable. At her blank look he continued. "It's what you want, isn't it? Well, now's your chance. An unaltered John Sheppard. Darker, grimmer, but not altered like I am. No baby to pin you down. You'll want to take the boys but they belong here and here is where they will stay."

"John? I...no."

"No? I'm giving you the option, Moira."

"I...I don't want it." She was thrown by his utter sincerity. Seriousness.

"Are you sure? This might be your only chance to turn back the clock. Sort of."

"No. No!" She stepped to him, angry now. His ambivalence turning to mockery. "Damn it, John, I don't want that!"

"Then what do you want, Moy?"

"You! This! The boys! Even, even Emily."

He raised a brow. "Really? Are you sure? You sure as hell didn't sound like that back there! With him. Him!"

"Stop it!" She hit his chest. "Stop it!" She began to pummel him, tears in her eyes. "You, you don't understand! You never have! I want you! John, you! He warned me you'd be like this! Even now! You! You!"

John caught her wrists, then pulled her into his arms as she dissolved into a weeping mess. He held her, kissed her brow. Relaxing. The real fear she would leave him, would choose his doppelganger over him had been a genuine concern. But he knew that she loved him. Loved their family. Even the baby. He hadn't realized how difficult things had been for her. One thing after another piling up on her, burying her. She hadn't said a word to him. Not about Katie's murder. Not about his own evolution. Not about the pregnancy and birth. Not about how he had missed their wedding anniversary two years in a row now. Not about the holidays he insisted on having this year. Not about the estrangement from her friends. Over him, he was certain.

Moira calmed at last. The torrent of pent-up emotion released. His t-shirt was damp with her tears. But he was warm, solid. She was secure in his arms. Consoled by his soft kisses along her brow, her hair. Her John. Despite everything he loved her. Wanted her. Cared for her. Always would, even if he did appear to be oblivious at times. Forgetful. She stepped back a little to view his handsome face. "John? You...you're pissed?"

"Yes. But when you are full of tears it melts all of that, sweetheart. My Moira. Mine." He stroked her rosy cheek, catching a stray tear. Moved it to his lips and ran his finger across them. Absorbing the tear. As if he could absorb her sorrow. He kissed her. Tasting her love, her anxiety. "Easy, sweetheart. Easy. You can talk to me, you know," he gently chided.

"You...you don't listen," she said. But her voice was soft as she stared at him. Marveling over his beauty again. It caught her, stilled all turmoil, all doubts. Even after all the years and the children she still couldn't quite believe that this man loved her. Wanted her. Cherished her.

"Ah. I'm sorry. I'm listening now, sweetheart."

She smiled for a moment. "Sure you are, sweetie. Anything to calm down the crazy woman."

He smiled. "Yeah. And to get into her pants."

"Hilarious, John."

"I'm serious, Moira." He kissed her. A long, deep kiss. Hands sliding down to grab her rear. "The kids are with Maggie," he informed into her ear. "You have to admit you do enjoy some of my, um, enhancements." She stifled a giggle. "Thought so. I can make it all better, baby. All of it. Everything."

"John?" She stopped him. Hands splayed on his chest. "You...you...really? Now? After I...I..."

"Yes. Really. Now. Moira." He kissed her. Guiding her backwards, backwards until she bumped into the table. Startled she broke the kiss but John's hands were moving under her. Fingers sliding between her legs now. Into her pants. She gasped as he hoisted her onto the table. Squirmed as he stroked and stroked.

"John! John!"

"Ssh! They're only in the next room," he teased. "Ssh, baby. Give yourself to me now. I want it, Moy. I want it now," he growled. Fingers yanking at her pants, her panties.

"John! John, wait, John!" She pushed but he kissed her. Tongue thrusting into her mouth as he gently moved her onto her back. Her feet swung off the floor. He yanked off her pants, her panties. Hands rough. Impatient. She gasped, whimpered as he moved to his knees. Ran his mouth up her bare thigh. Spreading her legs wide. She grabbed onto the table, startled, aroused as he nibbled her bare skin. Nibbled his way up to what he sought, what he craved. Claimed as his own. Took as he delved suddenly into her.

Moira arched, cried out as the sensual rush pulsed wildly. She grabbed at nothing, helpless. Watched as he grunted, gaining more access. Finding the nub and ruthlessly sucking until she cried out his name, arched and writhed wildly. He freed her. Stood. Unzipped his pants. Yanked down his pants, his shorts. All the while his gaze locked with hers. Thrust his very erect cock into her. She cried out again, grabbing his arms as he thrust, thrust hard into her. Grunting with dominance. Shaking the table. Shaking her as he groaned in relief, in pleasure.

John grabbed her hands, pinned them to either side of her head. Thrusting deeply, hard. Gaze locked with hers. The pleasure rushing, rushing. Asserting himself on her, in her. He leaned down to lightly kiss her. Ran his face along her breasts, still concealed by her shirt, her bra. He nibbled at the shirt, gently biting at the hard nipples poking the fabric. He lifted, thrust after thrust in a fast crescendo that made Moira cry out at the climax. The table rocked wildly and her data pad skittered across it, fell to the floor. Her sounds made his cock harder, harder still. Until he moaned and came at last. He shuddered, spurted inside of her. Leaned on her, on the table to catch his breath. Freed her hands to slide his under her shirt and bra. Fondling her breasts. He shoved her clothing out of the way to kiss and suck at each one. She squirmed, murmuring. Fingers in his hair, on his shoulders.

"John...John...John..." Moira breathed when she could speak.

"Ssh, baby." He lifted, kissed her. Straightened to slide out of her. He snorted, almost tripping over his fallen pants and shorts that were tangled around his ankles. "Up!" He pulled her to her feet, stepping out of his clothing. "Moira, baby...fuck that was hot. So fucking sweet.":

"You could warn a girl, sweetie! My God!" She was flustered. Hair wildly falling out of her ponytail. Clothes askew. But she smiled. "John."

He smiled. "Bed. Slow and sweet now, then a nap, baby. We're fine. Don't you worry."

John sat. Moira was fast asleep next to him. Pleasured by the lovemaking. Secure in his love, his desire for her. He extricated himself from her embrace. Slid out of the bed and dressed. Quick, efficient motions. He tilted his head, concentrating. All three children were asleep as well, as Maggie sat with them, quietly working. He looked at his wife. His Moira. In his bed. Where she belonged. Where she would always belong. No matter what.

He moved briskly through the hallways. Acknowledged the two marines guarding the holding cell with a nod. He strode to the cell. Deactivated the force field. Sheppard was on his feet. Wary. John entered the cell. Glowered at him a moment, resisting the urge to hit, to punch, to shoot his other self. Instead he barked. "Let's go. Move!"

"Now? Where's–"

"Mine. In my bed. Mine. She chose me. Again. Me. So there's no need for you to be here, now is there. You got your intel."

"True." Sheppard smirked at John's gloating, satisfied tone. As if he had to prove something to Sheppard. Or to himself. Perhaps even to Moira. "What's the rush, Johnny-boy? Afraid she might change her mind?"

"No. Move!"

Sheppard stepped out of the cell. John followed, gun aimed at the other man's back. He tapped his earpiece. "Delta to the 'Gate room. You'll be joining our prisoner and making damn sure he leaves this reality. Dial it up!"

"Can't I even say goodbye to–"

"No."

"I don't need the escort."

"Maybe not, but I do. Just to make sure you leave."

Sheppard turned to him as the wormhole shimmered. "I don't know what happened to you. But you have changed. Not just physically. But in other ways too. Moira."

"What about her? I told you, she chose me," John said curtly.

"That doesn't mean she's happy, John."

John glared. "She loves me. Not you. Me!"

"Yes," he agreed with a shrug, having known that all along, "but that doesn't mean she's happy."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" John snapped.

Sheppard smiled. "Thanks for the intel. Tell Moira I'll be seeing her soon. She's always welcome to visit me. See ya." He stepped through the 'Gate. Delta squad followed on his heels, weapons at the ready.

John stared after his doppelganger. Silent. Angry. Relieved.

Moira rolled, reaching. "John?" She sat. Found herself alone. Wondered. Realized. Part of her wanted to run to the 'Gate room to see the colonel one last time. But she sat, frozen. Couldn't do that to John. To herself. Not even to the colonel. It was too awkward, too painful. Too strange to even begin to analyze. To understand. Instead she sat, staring round the empty room. Sitting in the bed she had just shared intimately with John. She looked at her data pad on the floor near the table. The table where John had taken her with rough but gentle precision.

She sat, clutching the blankets until the voices of her children roused her. The little boys engaged in some argument. Little voices rising and falling. Emily's sounds as the baby gurgled and added her own opinions. Moira sprang out of the bed, pulled on her clothes. Haphazardly straightened the messy blankets, the messy comforter. Entered the nursery as Maggie led the two little boys, the baby in her arms.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Seamus ran to her, grabbed her leg.

"Mommy!" Johnny stood close.

"Thank you, Maggie." Moira took Emily from her. Eyed her sons. "I hope you were well-behaved with your Auntie Maggie. What were you arguing about?"

"Johnny said! Johnny said there are two daddies!" Seamus stated.

"They are but only one is our daddy," Johnny said, sighed. "I told you how Uncle Rod explained it to me. Like a story but the–"

"No! There's only one daddy! Daddy! Where daddy?" Seamus refused, not understanding.

"Mommy, did daddy make it all better?" Johnny asked, serious.

Moira tried not to laugh. "Yes, darling, he did. Twice, actually." She snorted, exchanged a laugh with the older woman.

"Mommy, mommy, who bad man?" Seamus asked.

"He gone. Daddy sent bad man away. The city told me," Johnny stated.

"It did? Of course it did,"Moira stated. Smiled at her sons. "It's all right now. See? I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere. Don't you worry. And yes, Seamus. You only have one daddy. Only one. But Johnny is right too...in another universe there is another John Sheppard, but he's not your father. Only daddy is. We'll have Uncle Rodney explain it again when you are older. Let's go play a game, okay? We can play a game and then when daddy gets back we can have dinner."

"Daddy will want beer," Johnny said.

"And pizza!" Seamus added.

"Yes, you are both right." Emily started to fuss. "Oh oh! Looks like Emily wants to eat first."

"What else is new?" Johnny quipped. Everyone laughed.


	8. Chapter 8

An Atlantis Christmas Carol8

"It's remarkable." Carson sat back from the microscope. Rubbed his eyes. "I mean from a biochemical perspective. The differences are even more glaring now with this unaltered sample for comparison. Essentially they are the same, but they're not."

"Bio-chemically," Moira said softly. She eyed the data screen. The two genomes side by side. Highlighted by colors. Mostly identical, but with some small, telling differences. "Not so much genetically, however."

"No. Some of the genetic markers have changed. That's why our John couldn't access their John's technology. Fascinating, isn't it? As you can see." Carson pointed to the screen. "And a few here...I've never seen anything like this."

"Part of his evolution?"

"Yes, I believe so. New genetic markers. Slight differences in the letters, being switched in the RNA, mind, not the DNA. What that means I have no idea. Could be for his enhanced abilities. Nothing harmful, mind, just...different."

"And how...how does that compare to Emily?" She glanced at the baby in her stroller. The infant was sucking on a pacifier, staring round with wide blue eyes. Curls dark against her pink sleeper. A plush pink teddy bear sat next to her. One little hand of the infant was on it.

Carson smiled. Brought up another screen. "Don't worry, Moira. As you can see she has none of those markers. The wee lass is unscathed. Completely human."

"So far."

"So far, aye. Only time will tell but if it hasn't happened yet–"

"It never will." John stood behind the stroller. He smiled down at the little girl who stared up at him. "How's my precious princess this evening? All ready for bed, I see." The baby gurgled at him. John leaned down and planted a kiss on the infant's head. Straightened. "What?" He smirked at Moira's eye roll. "Ah. You're jealous now that I have another woman in my life."

"Like I'm not used to that already?" she quipped. Shook her head.

"We were just going over your charts, John. It is fascinating!" Carson enthused.

"Glad I make good reading material, I guess. So? No! Don't!" He held up a hand. "I can't handle all that science babble right now. I've got two teams to debrief plus a new roster to update."

"Then why are you standing here?" Moira asked.

"Cute. Very. I need a word."

"Later. I'm working." She turned back to the screen. "We need to run a comparison with the alien DNA and the Wraith to narrow the...Carson?"

The doctor had moved to his feet. "In a tic, love." He moved away to give them privacy.

The baby gurgled. The pacifier dropped from her mouth. She fussed, began to whine, reaching for it.

"Here you go, princess." John sat in the vacated chair. Restored the pacifier to his daughter. Caressed a rosy cheek. "You're pissed," he said, looking at his wife. "I get that. I know. But come on, Moy. You can't be surprised. You really didn't expect me to let him stay any longer, did you? No fucking way."

"I'm not pissed."

"Really? Well, you're doing a damn good impression of being pissed at me." He waited, but she was intent on the screen.

"What do you want, John?" she asked at last. Uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

He scooted the chair closer to hers. Spoke into her ear. "You. An hour. Ours." He kissed her cheek, stood. "Later, Moy. Ems, keep an eye on mommy. An hour."

"Why? I think you can at least manage to get the boys ready for bed and then–"

"An hour. No arguments. An hour, Moy. Just do as I say for once, would you?"

"John? John!" She stared after him as he strode out of the infirmary. The baby gurgled, reaching out a chubby hand towards the retreating form. The pacifier dropped from her mouth and she began to whine again. Moira sighed. "I know, Emily. Men," she grumbled.

"...and another thing," Rodney was in mid-sentence when John entered the physics lab, "there's no way any possible infiltration of the system could have allowed him to pass through the anomaly! He couldn't even get a note through there now. It was be destroyed on impact with the energy waves that would oh...John."

"Zelenka was right? The anomaly's shut for good?" John asked, nearing.

Rodney nodded. "Shut for good. Sealed just like we left it. I promise you. Is Moira okay?"

"Yes. She's fine. I need to be sure, Rodney."

"You can be sure. I triple checked it. However that other Sheppard got here it wasn't through the anomaly here. How did he get here again?"

"An anomaly on another planet. P1R927. I've already restricted access to it. I sent Delta to escort our unwanted guest there. To make sure he left. And he did. I don't suppose you could close that anomaly as well?"

"Would that be wise, colonel? He is our ally, of a sort. He did help us save this city." At John's glower Radek shrugged, wiped his glasses on his shirt.

"Maybe," Rodney answered. "It will take time. Each one has a unique set of equations based on time and space distortions between the two realities, plus the whole dynamic of being underwater and subject to the exigencies of the aquatic–"

"Just do it, Rodney. Please," John added. "Can you give us a minute, Radek?"

"Of course." The Czech scientist exchanged a glance with Rodney, then left.

"What is it? Oh. Rest assured you're still team leader. Lorne's good, I have to admit. But he's not you. You're better."

"Thanks. I can rest easy now," John quipped. Sobered.

"Well? I've got work to do." Rodney waited, impatient expression on his face.

John hesitated. Looked round the room. Tapped his fingers on the table. Eyed the computer monitors, the equipment scattered about like forgotten toys. Finally he met his friend's gaze. "I...um..I need a favor."

Moira stood at the window. Staring at the snowfall. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. She turned, hearing John enter the room. He paused. Met her gaze. They stared at each other for a moment. The Christmas lights blinking between them on the floor like a colorful barrier.

"What?" he asked at last.

"He...he has a son."

John blinked. Took a moment to realize. "Oh."

"That's it? That's all you have to say? Oh?"

"Yeah. Does this mean you are jealous?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "Of course not! I...I just thought you should know."

"Why?"

"It's the reason he came here." She waited but he was silent. "He gave me a second flash drive. The, the kiss was a diversion. He wanted, no, he needed my input on it. On the child. On the child's genetic, um, inheritance. He couldn't trust his own men or his scientists with the intel. The child doesn't have the double. Only a single ATA."

"And?" John asked, walking over to her.

"And he's got a marker. A genetic marker. Wraith."

"How?"

"Because of the child's mother. The child's mother is...Teyla. Their Teyla, not ours," she needlessly added. "It was a one-off, he said. A by-blow. The child has his ATA and her Wraith genes, but they are so small as to be insignificant, except that they may cancel out the ATA. He was afraid that his people would see the child as a threat, as another ATA-enabled Wraith, but that won't happen. The child is fully human, like his parents. He'll be able to sense the Wraith, but that's all. I gave him some suggestions for treatments on how to dilute the Wraith cells so his ATA could function in the city. He's not a hybrid or anything like that."

"Wow. Teyla and...wow," John said at last. Brow furrowing at the thought.

"Their Teyla," she explained. "And him. Once. Did you...did you ever..."

"No. It was never like that between us. I may have entertained the idea...but no. Wow."

"I know." She turned back to the window. "I just thought you should know why he came here, John. For that as well as the intel on those aliens. Nothing else."

"Really? Defending him again, are you? He came to see you, Moira."

"For my expertise on the genetic stuff. That's all. Nothing more." She paused, tensing. "He, he did ask me. To go away with him. But I refused."

"I know."

"Oh." Silence. Moira waited, but he said nothing else. Just stood behind her. She could feel him looming over her, looking beyond her to the snowfall. She tried to relax. "The boys are ready for bed. Waiting for you, as is Emily. Their bedtime story. Go on."

"Ah. Go to them. We'll have a family bedtime story. Go on." He caught her arm before she could move past him. "Moy, you know what tomorrow is, don't you?"

"Saturday?" she quipped.

He smiled. "Yes, but also Christmas."

"Oh. Yeah. Everything's wrapped. We just need to move it all under the tree and–"

"I know. Go on." But he stopped her again. "Moy? You...me...we're okay, right? All of us are okay?" His brilliant green eyes studied her.

"Yes, John. Don't you worry." But she sounded weary. She glanced at the Christmas tree. The darkness beyond it.

"He said you were unhappy."

"Huh? Who? Oh." She felt a blush, met his gaze. "I'm fine, John."

"Are you? Unhappy, I mean."

"No."

"No? Look, sweetheart, we've both been through hell. Me with this mutating and evolution thing and you with the pregnancy and early birth thing. The galaxy has thrown quite a lot at us recently but we made it. We both did. Together. With our perfect circle. Our children, Moy. All three. I can't undo what I did. I wish I could undo some things, but I can't, and I am sorry. About Katie. About missing our anniversary again. About getting you pregnant when I was mutating and before we even had planned on another kid. I can't undo any of that now. I would give anything to have Katie back here. But I wouldn't give up Emily. Not ever. I just...I just need to know we're on the same page here. The same page again now that all of that shit is finished."

"We are."

"Are we? You–"

"John! You're right. You can't undo it. Any of it. Nor can I. I just...needed to talk it through. I was afraid you wouldn't understand. About, about how things are here now. With me. With the, the rest. About, about Emily. The way I feel. Those darker emotions."

"And he did?"

"Yes. But he's not you, John. Even unaltered he will never be you. And I love you. You. I can't change how I feel...how I felt about...but it will pass. It will get better. I just needed to have someone listen to me. And understand. To throw my words back at me so I could see what they really were. To not pass judgment or assess blame."

"And I wouldn't understand? I would pass judgment and blame you?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Yes." She touched his arm to reassure. "Not consciously, but you would, at first. Because you blame yourself too. I never blamed you for Katie's murder, John. You didn't mean to do it. You weren't yourself. I can't blame you for what happened to you. The mutations, the evolution. It was beyond your control, beyond all of our control. But yes, subconsciously, maybe I did. Just as you blamed me for not finding the cure sooner. For not, not wanting Emily. For, for talking to the colonel instead of talking to you. None of that matters now, John. What we did...what we should have done. Or not done. We're here now. All of us. And we're still together."

"Okay. I guess. So we're okay. You. Me. Right?"

She smiled at his confusion. Kissed him. "Yes, sweetie. We're okay. You. Me."

"Good. I hate all this talking, emo stuff. Go. I'll be there in a sec."


	9. Chapter 9

An Atlantis Christmas Carol9

Moira sat in a big, plush chair. The baby was on her lap. The boys sat on either side of her. She had her an arm around each one as they snuggled. Comfy in their pajamas. John smiled at the picture they made. His little family. His little circle. Safe. Secure. His. He pulled up a chair in front of them. Smiled. Opened a book.

Moira smirked. "You've got to be kidding me! _'Twas the Night Before Christmas_?" She smiled. "Isn't that too cliche?"

"Hush, doctor! This is a special version, just for us. And behave yourself, doctor. At least for now." He cleared his throat. Began to read out loud:

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the city

Not a creature was stirring, not even Miss Kitty!"

John tweaked the baby's toes. The little girl gurgled happily. Cooed at her father. Smiled.

"The stockings were hung in a row by the table

But Seamus would reach them if he was able.

John tickled his younger son. The little boy giggled.

"Daddy!" he laughed with a big smile.

"The children were nestled all snug in their bed

While visions of pudding danced in Johnny's head.

John tickled his older son. The little boy laughed.

"Daddy!" he remonstrated, but grinned.

"And mommy and daddy in their underwear

Had just settled down to play what fits where

John winked at Moira. She laughed.

"John!" she scolded, but the boys giggled. Emily chortled.

"When out on the pier there arose such a clatter

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter!

Away to the windows I sped with all speed

To see if Atlantis was in dire need!

Could it be the Stargate with some dangerous threat?

Nah! It was just Mr. Woolsey to my deep regret.

"John!" Moira scolded. The boys giggled.

"Could it be Uncle Ronon hunting for Wraith?

Nah! He was preaching a sermon on how to be safe!

"Daddy! Uncle Roe don't talk much!" Johnny corrected.

"Daddy! Uncle Roe tall!" Seamus declared.

John resumed. "Could it be Uncle Rodney looking for snacks?

Nah! He had emptied the mess hall with his boring science facts!

The boys laughed. Moira shook her head, but smiled.

"Could it be Uncle Carson and his Scottish brogue?

Nah! He was weeping over a movie about a doctor and a rogue!

The boys laughed. Moira laughed as well.

"Could it be Uncle Evan making a picture?

Nah! He was too busy breaking yet another fixture!"

The boys laughed again. John held Moira's gaze a moment. Continued.

"Could it be Auntie Teyla fighting with her sticks?

Nah! She was stuck in a ceremony with her Athosian hicks!"

Everyone laughed.

"When what to my wondering eye should appear

But a miniature Jumper with tiny mammoths in gear!

With a little old driver so lively and quick

I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick!"

"Who Saint Nick?" Seamus asked, puzzled.

"Santa Claus!" Johnny informed.

"Oh! Santy Claus?"

"Boys, ssh," Moira said, amused.

John smiled, continued. "More rapid then a Jumper his mastodons came

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!

Now Dasher, now Donner! Now Prancer and Vixen!

On Comet! On Cupid! On Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the city! To the Sheppards' grand hall!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

The boys gasped. "That's us, daddy! Sheppards, that us!" they cried in unison, looking round.

"Daddy! Daddy, look! What's that! Who? Daddy!" They pointed to the doorway where a figure could be seen moving about. A glimpse of a figure in red and white. Black boots. A red hat.

"What?"John turned, as if surprised. "Oh. I don't know, sons. Who could that be?"

"John?" Moira asked.

"Ho, ho, ho!" called a booming voice. The Christmas lights flared and revealed a figure dressed like Santa Claus. The red suit trimmed with white fur. The hat. The flowing white beard. Gold spectacles balanced on his nose. "Ho, ho, ho!" A bell rang.

"Daddy! Daddy! It's Santa! Santa Claus!" Johnny exclaimed, blue eyes wide.

"Daddy! Santy Claus!" Seamus echoed in utter amazement.

"Is it? Are you sure? You had better check," John teased, moving to his feet.

"John? Who is that?" Moira asked, standing with the baby in her arms as her two sons sprang to their feet and ran out of the room.

John smiled at her. Raised a brow. "Didn't you hear, Moy? It's Santa Claus, obviously."

Moira's gaze narrowed. "Hilarious, John. Who–" But he was following his sons. She followed him, amused. Curious. Touched by the story and whatever else he had in store for them. The boys were jumping up and down, excited. Encircling a man who was dressed like Santa Claus. The baby exclaimed, pointing in wonder. Moira stared, but she couldn't tell who was buried under the big, heavy suit and hat and long beard.

"Daddy! Mommy! It's Santa Claus! Santa Claus!" Johnny exclaimed.

"Daddy! Mommy! Santy Claus!" Seamus echoed, equally amazed. Suddenly he blushed, staring up at the stranger. Ran to hide behind his father's leg.

John smiled, patted the little boy's shoulder. "It's all right, sport. It is Santa Claus. See? Oh no! What about the cookies?"

"Yes, where are my cookies?" Santa asked in his booming voice. "Oh oh! I better check this first! Wouldn't want to make a mistake!" He pulled out a long, scrolling piece of paper.

"The list! He's checking the list!" Johnny shouted, pointing. "Just like the other story!"

"Twice!" Seamus added, moving to his brother now that his father has assured him.

"What have we here?" Santa bellowed. "Hmm? Who's been naughty and who's been nice this year? Let me check!" He pretended to read a list of names. The boys waited, breathless. Mouths open. Even Emily was quiet, still pointing. Moira glanced at John, trying not to laugh. John met her gaze, shrugged, as if he had no idea what was happening. He winked at her.

"Ah. Look at this! My nice list! And who is on it? One Seamus Sheppard!"

"Me! YAY! That me, me!" Seamus declared, jumping up and down. He ran to his mother. "Mommy! Mommy, that me! I nice!"

"Yes, honey, you are nice," she agreed.

"Who's this? Here's Johnny Sheppard!"

"Yes, yes!" Johnny ran to his father. "Daddy! I on nice list too! Me!"

"Wow! Santa, are you sure about that one?"

"Daddy!" Johnny complained to the teasing.

Santa chuckled. "Yes, I am sure. And look here! Emily Sheppard's on the list too! I hope I have enough presents!"

"Please tell me that Moira Sheppard is on the naughty list," John quipped. "Ow!" he complained as she elbowed him.

"John! You most certainly are!" Everyone laughed.

John met her gaze. "God I hope so!" he muttered, raising his brows.

"Presents! Where presents, Santy?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah, where presents?" Johnny echoed. The little boys circled the tree, came back to Santa.

Santa put his hands on his hips. "Where are my cookies?"

"Oh no! Cookies! Where cookies?" Seamus asked, alarmed.

"Here! Here they are!" Johnny raced to get them. "Where are they? Daddy, daddy, did you eat all the cookies?" he accused.

"Those weren't for me?" John asked.

"Daddy!" the boys chorused in exasperation.

"Here, here!" Seamus cried, finding the plate at last.

"Thank goodness for that!" Moira jested. The adults laughed.

"Thank you!" Santa took one. Another. Yet another.

"Presents?"

"Ask nicely," Moira remonstrated.

"Presents?" Santa asked round a mouthful. "Why, I can't deliver presents until you boys are in your beds fast asleep! Those are the rules! Didn't your father tell you that! Tsk tsk!" he scolded, laying a finger to the side of his nose. "And I brought such wonderful presents too!"

"No, no! We're going! We go bed now, Santa! Come on, Seamus!" Johnny pulled him towards the doorway.

"We go bed! Come on, mommy! Mommy!" Seamus tugged on his mother's arm.

"Mommy, come on! It's the rule!" Johnny added.

Moira laughed. "All right, boys, if it's the rule! I'm coming!" The little boys pulled her towards their room. Emily chortled in her arms. "Say thank you to Santa."

"Thank you, Santa!" they chorused.


	10. Chapter 10

An Atlantis Christmas Carol10

"Are you going to eat all of those?" John asked once his family had departed. He snatched one off the plate, devoured it quickly. He could hear his sons and their excited whispers. Could hear Emily's little sounds and coos. Could hear his wife's soft, soothing voice.

"Yes. It's my right, as Santa." He ate another. Crumbs fell across the long, snowy beard. "These are good. Did Moira bake them?"

"Moira? Are you kidding me?"

"I heard that!" she called from the other room.

The men laughed quietly. Finished the last of the cookies.

"Where's my glass of milk?"

"Don't push it," John replied.

"Goodnight, Santa! Goodnight daddy!" the boys called. Excitement and amazement still audible in their voices.

"Goodnight, boys! Ho, ho, ho!" Santa called. Rang his bell again.

John extended his open hand. "Thanks, Rodney."

Rodney took it. The two men shook hands. Eyed each other. A silent rapprochement. Understanding.

"I should have known." Moira had been watching from the doorway. As she neared the two men freed their hands, drew away as if in embarrassment. She stepped to Rodney. Smiled. Hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Rodney! Thank you!"

"I did it for the cookies," Rodney said, abashed by the display of gratitude, affection. Yet he smiled proudly.

"Of course you did," Moira agreed. "Please come by tomorrow morning. You can help the boys open their presents, and fix them when John breaks the toys."

"Hey!" John protested.

"Thank you. I would like that. Goodnight, Moira. John."

John followed him to the door. "Thanks again. Oh. Wait! I need to um, borrow that." John pointed at the hat. Rodney stared.

"What? Why would you need...oh no. I don't want to know, do I?" he asked, realizing as John's quick smile told him more than he wanted to know. Without another word he removed it, handed it to his friend.

"Yeah, you don't want to know. Thanks." John shut the door. Concealed the hat behind his back as he turned. Yawned. "I'm beat. Let's say we get all those presents out here, then get ready for bed. For some reindeer games of our own, huh, sweetheart?" He grinned at her.

Moira laughed. "Fine, sweetie. Let me check on the children first."

Moira moved quietly through the suite of rooms. The boys were snug in their beds, fast asleep. She kissed each one. Moved to the nursery. Emily was likewise fast asleep in her crib. She kissed the baby, paused as the infant stirred. Little mouth moving.

"Mmm...mmma...mama..." the baby muttered.

Moira stared. She smiled, felt tears for a moment. Waited, but the baby was silent again. She wondered if she had imagined it. With a shrug she shoved her hands into the pockets of the heavy purple robe she wore, entered the main room. The Christmas tree was still a blaze of colorful lights. But surrounded by presents now. Inundated by all sorts of boxes and shapes wrapped in bright, shiny paper. Studded with pretty bows. So many that they spread out past the tree to the table. She shook her head, knowing that most were for the children. Realized that John had gone overboard, but smiled at his enthusiasm. "John?"

"What's with the robe, baby?" John was sitting near the tree. Scooted so she could see him.

Moira stepped towards him. Smirked. He had nothing on but a pair of red boxer shorts. Decorated with candy canes. And a Santa hat on his head, perched at an angle. She laughed. "John! Candy canes? Really? I mean, really?"

"Yeah, baby, 'tis the season. And I've got a really, really big candy cane right here for you. I want you to suck on it, baby."

She snorted. "Will it taste like peppermint, sweetie?"

He laughed. "Yes, it will. We do have peppermint ice cream, baby. Now come over here and jingle my balls, er, bells."

She laughed. "John Sheppard!"

"What? What's with the robe, baby? Do you have something special for Santa under there? Hmm...maybe a hidden mistletoe?"

"Stop it!" she snorted. "I do have something, sweetie. Not for a good boy, but for a bad, bad boy. Like you." She opened the robe. Dropped it to the floor. John smiled. She had on a sheer negligee, in red with white trim on the hem and on the sleeves. She turned. Revealing the sheer thong that left her rear bare. She leaned, wiggling. "Well, sweetie? Does that jingle your bells?"

"Fuck, yes, baby! Pert little ass! Now come over here and sit on Santa's lap before there isn't room for you."

Moira laughed. She moved to him. Sat demurely, sideways, legs together. Smirked at his obvious disappointment. "John. Oh John!" She turned, hugged him, bouncing on his lap to make him groan. She kissed him. "You are wonderful, John! The story! Then Santa! How did you ever convince Rodney to do that?"

"Simple. Bribery." They both laughed. "And cookies."

"Things are better between you now," she said, nestling against him. Her fingers slid along his chest, tangling in his chest hair.

"Yeah. We're getting there, Moy. Like you and Evan, right? Thought so. We'll all get there, don't you worry." He stroked her side. "I know."

"Oh oh. What do you know?"

"I'm sorry. I missed our anniversary again."

"Oh. It wasn't your fault, John. You were on Earth being grilled by the IOA and the NID and the SGC and the–"

"Yeah, I know, don't remind me," he grumbled. "And then I came back to find you having some difficulties with the pregnancy. I missed it again, Moy. I'm sorry. Most wives would be having my balls for breakfast."

She snorted. "Hmm. There's a thought, colonel, but no. Most wives don't live in the Pegasus galaxy and are married to the military commander of Atlantis."

"True. Does this mean I am forgiven?"

"Of course, sweetie." She moved to view his handsome face. Kissed him. "You did remember it so that gives you a few points, at least."

"A few? Huh." He reached round behind him. "And how many points does this give me?" He held out a small red box. With a small red bow.

She stared. "John? No, no, no! You, you didn't have to do anything!"

"Of course I did, baby. It was our anniversary. Open it."

"No."

"No?" He smiled. "Don't be silly, Moy. Open it."

She took the box. Oddly serious. "John, you, you shouldn't have." She felt tears.

"You haven't even seen what it is yet, sweetheart. Open it." He ran his mouth along her throat. Charmed by her reluctance. Amused. He nibbled her earlobe.

She shifted on his lap. Opened the box. Stared. "John," she whispered. It was a pendant. A pure silver topaz, a clear gem carved in the shape of a snowflake. Tiny diamonds sparkled along each pointed and curved end. Inside the gem were floating heart shapes, tiny moving gemstones that caught the light and reflected it back into the topaz. "John...you...you shouldn't have! It's beautiful! So beautiful!"

"For our anniversary, sweetheart. For you. Put it on."

She freed it from the box. Held it up by the silver chain. John swept her long hair to one side, fastened it for her. He eyed it as it lay against her skin. Suspended above her breasts. Lights twinkled on it, as if trapped inside the gem.

"John, John,...you...John!" She hit his arm as his gaze was on her breasts now. Clearly seen through the sheer red fabric. He met her gaze, smiled. "You shouldn't have! We have three children now and you–"

"I should have because it was our anniversary, Moira. Moira, I love you. You know I'm not good at this stuff...the talking stuff and all...the emotional crap, er, stuff. I'd rather show you than tell you. But you...Moira, you are my world. My life. My love. Everything to me. To our children. You, Moira. Only you."

She stared, startled. "I...um...okay. Okay, John."

He smiled. "Okay? Okay, then."

"John, I...I love you!" She hugged him. "You are everything to me! My world, my life, my love! Everything to me and to our children! To the city!" She drew back. "But mostly to me. Only you, John. Only you."

He kissed her. Kept kissing her. "So, baby...ready for that candy cane yet?"

She laughed. "I suppose so, sweetie." She stood, straddled his lap. Began to gyrate. She kissed him. "Oh John! Merry Christmas, sweetie!"

He smiled. Hands gliding over her body as she was making him very, very happy. "Oh Moira! Merry Christmas, baby!"

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!


End file.
